4 



A** 



DISCOURSES 



ADDRESSED TO 



MIXED CONGREGATIONS. 

BY 

JOHN HENRY NEWMAN, 

PRIEST OF THE ORATORY OF ST. PHILIP NERI. 




" DEFICIENT PUERI ET LABORABUNT, ET JUVENES IN INFIRMITATE CADENT J QUI 
AUTEM SPERANT IN DOMINO, MUTABUNT FORTlTUDINEM." 



SECOND EDITION. 



LONDON: 

LONGMAN, BROWN, GREEN, AND LONGMANS, 

PATEE2sOSTER EOW. 
1850. 



. N 5 

\ 9.5*0 



TO THE 

RIGHT REV. .IOLAS WISEMAN, D.D., 

BISHOP OF MELIPOTAMUS, 
AND VICAR APOSTOLIC OF THE LONDON DISTRICT, 

$c. $c. fyc. 



My Dear Lord, 

I present for your Lordsliip's kind accept- 
ance and patronage the first work which I publish 
as a Father of the Oratory of St. Philip Neri. I 
have a sort of claim upon your permission to do so, 
as a token of my gratitude and affection toward 
your Lordship, since it is to you principally that I 
owe it, under God, that I am a client and subject, 
however unworthy, of so great a Saint. 

When I found myself a Catholic, I also found 
myself in your Lordship's district ; and, at your 
suggestion, I first moved into your immediate 
neighbourhood, and then, when your Lordship fur- 
ther desired it, I left you for Rome. There it was 
my blessedness to be allowed to offer myself, with 
the condescending approval of the Holy Father, 



vi DEDICATION. 

to the service of St. Philip, of whom I had so often 
heard you speak before I left England, and whose 
bright and beautiful character had won my love and 
devotion, even when I was a Protestant. 

You see then, my dear Lord, how much you 
have to do with my present position in the Church. 
But your concern with it is greater than I have 
yet stated ; for I cannot forget, that when, in the 
year 1839, a doubt first crossed my mind of the 
tenableness of the theological theory on which 
Anglicanism is based, it was caused in no slight 
degree by the perusal of a controversial paper, 
attributed to your Lordship, on the schism of the 
Donatists. 

That the glorious intercession of St. Philip may 
be the reward of your faithful devotion to himself, 
and of your kindness to me, is, 

My dear Lord, 
while I ask your Lordship's blessing on me and mine, 
the earnest prayer of 
Your affectionate friend and servant, 
JOHN HENRY NEWMAN, 

CONGR. ORAT. 

In Fest. S. Caroli, 
1849. 



CONTENTS. 



DISCOURSE PAGE 

I. The Salvation of the Hearer the Motive of the 

Preacher . . . . . . . 1 

II. Neglect of Divine Calls and Warnings . . .23 

III. Men, not Angels, the Priests of the Gospel . . 45 

IV. Purity and Love . 66 
V. Saintliness the Standard of Christian Principle . 89 

VI. God's Will the End of Life Ill 

VII. Perseverance in Grace . . . . .132 

VIII. Nature and Grace ...... 154 

IX. Illuminating Grace . . . . . .179 

X. Faith and Private Judgment .... 203 

XI. Faith and Doubt ...... 227 

XII. Prospects of the Catholic Missioner . . . 252 

XIII. Mysteries of Nature and of Grace . . . 275 

XIV. The Mystery of Divine Condescension . . . 301 
XV. The Infinitude of the Divine Attributes . . 323 

XVI. Mental Sufferings of our Lord in His Passion . 342 

XVII. The Glories of Mary for the sake of her Son . 362 

XVIII. On the Fitness of the Glories of Mary . . 381 



It is hardly necessary to observe that the 
quotations from Scripture are made from the 
Vulgate. 



DISCOURSE I 



THE SALVATION OF THE HEARER THE MOTIVE 
OF THE PREACHER. 



When a body of men come into a neighbourhood 
to them unknown, as we are doing, my brethren, 
strangers to strangers, and there set themselves 
down, and raise an altar, and open a school, and 
invite, or even exhort all men to attend them, it 
is natural that they who see them, and are drawn 
to think about them, should ask the question, 
What brings them hither ? Who bid them come ? 
What do they want ? What do they preach ? What 
is their warrant? What do they promise? — You 
have a right, my brethren, to ask the question. 

Many however will not stop to ask it, as thinking 
they can answer it without difficulty for themselves. 
Many there are who would promptly and confi- 
dently answer it, according to their own habitual 
view of things, on their own principles, the prin- 
ciples of the world. The views, the principles, the 

B 



2 



THE SALVATION OF THE HEARER 



[Disc. 



aims of the world are very definite, are every where 
acknowledged, and are generally acted on. They 
afford an explanation of the conduct of others, who- 
ever they be, ready at hand, and so sure to be 
true in the common run of cases, as to be probable 
and plausible in any particular one. When we 
would account for effects which we see, we of 
course refer them to causes which we know of. 
To fancy causes of which we know nothing is not 
to account for them at all. The world then natu- 
rally and necessarily judges of others by itself. 
Those who live the life of the world, and act from 
motives of the world, and live and act with those 
who do the like, as a matter of course ascribe the 
actions of others, however different they may be 
from their own, to one or other of the motives 
which weigh with themselves ; for some motive or 
other they must assign, and they can imagine none 
but those of which they have experience. 

We know how the world goes on, especially in 
this country ; it is a laborious, energetic, indefa- 
tigable world. It takes up objects enthusiastically, 
and vigorously carries them through. Look into 
the world, as its course is faithfully traced day by 
day in those publications which are devoted to its 
service, and you will see at once the ends which 
stimulate it, and the views which govern it. You 
will read of great and persevering exertions, made 
for some temporal end, good or bad, but still tem- 
poral. Some temporal end it is, even if not a 



I.] THE MOTIVE OF THE PREACHER. 3 

selfish one; — generally, indeed, such as station, con- 
sideration, power, competency, luxury, but some- 
times the relief of the ills of human life or society, 
of ignorance, sickness, poverty, or vice — still some 
temporal end it is, which is the exciting and ani- 
mating principle of those exertions. And so plea- 
surable, so fascinating is the excitement, which 
those temporal objects create, that it is often its 
own reward ; insomuch that, forgetting the end for 
which they toil, men find a satisfaction in the toil 
itself, and are sufficiently repaid for their trouble 
by their trouble, in the struggle for success, and 
the rivalry of party, and the trial of their skill, 
and the demand upon their resources, in the vicis- 
situdes and hazards, and ever new emergencies and 
successive requisitions of the contest which they 
carry on, though it never comes to an end. 

Such is the way of the world ; and therefore, 
I say, it is not unnatural, that, when it sees any 
persons whatever any where begin to work with 
energy, and attempt to get others about them, 
and act in outward appearance like itself, though 
in a different direction and with a religious pro- 
fession, it unhesitatingly imputes to them the mo- 
tives which influence, or would influence its own 
children. Often by way of blame, but sometimes 
not as blaming, but as merely stating a plain fact 
which it thinks undeniable, it takes for granted that 
they are ambitious, or restless, or eager for distinc- 
tion, or fond of power. It knows no better ; and it 

b 2 



4 



THE SALVATION OF THE HEARER 



[Disc. 



is vexed and annoyed if, as time goes on, one thing 
or another is seen in the conduct of those whom 
it criticises, which is inconsistent with the assump- 
tion on which, in the first instance, it so summarily 
settled their position and anticipated their course. 
It took a general view of them, looked them 
through, as it thought, and from some one action 
of theirs which came to its knowledge, assigned 
to them some particular motive as their actuating 
principle ; but presently it finds it is obliged to 
shift its ground, to take up some new hypothesis, 
and explain to itself their character and their con- 
duct over again. O my dear brethren, the world 
cannot help doing so, because it knows us not ; 
it ever will be impatient with us for not being of 
the world, because it is the world ; it is necessarily 
blind to the one motive which has influence with 
us, and, tired out at length with hunting through 
its catalogues and note books for a description of us, 
it sits down in disgust, after its many conjectures, 
and flings us aside as inexplicable, or hates us as if 
mvsterious and designing. 

My brethren, we have secret views, — secret, that is, 
from men of this world ; secret from politicians, secret 
from the slaves of mammon, secret from all ambi- 
tious, covetous, selfish, and voluptuous men. For 
religion itself, like its Divine Author and Teacher, 
is, as I have said, an hidden thing from them ; and, 
not knowing it, they cannot use it as a key to inter- 
pret the conduct of those who are influenced by it. 



I.] THE MOTIVE OF THE PREACHER. 5 

They do not know the ideas and motives which 
religion sets before the spiritually illuminated mind. 
They do not enter into them or realize them, even 
when they are told them ; and they do not believe 
that another can be influenced by them, even when 
he professes them. They cannot put themselves 
into the position of a man simply striving, in all he 
does, to please God. They are so narrow-minded, 
such is the meanness of their intellectual make, 
that, when a Catholic professes this or that doctrine 
of the Church, — sin, judgment, heaven and hell, the 
blood of Christ, the merits of Saints, the power 
of Mary, or the Real Presence, — and says that 
these are the objects which inspire his thoughts and 
direct his actions through the day, they cannot take 
in that he is in earnest; for they think, forsooth, 
that these points ought to be and are his very diffi- 
culties, and that he gets over them by putting force 
on his reason, and thinks of them as little as he can, 
not dreaming that they exert an influence on his 
life. No wonder, then, that the sensual, and worldly- 
minded, and the unbelieving, are suspicious of those 
whom they cannot comprehend, and are so intricate 
and circuitous in their imputations, when they cannot 
bring themselves to accept an explanation, which is 
straight before them. So it has been from the 
beginning; the Jews preferred to ascribe the con- 
duct of our Lord and His forerunner to any motive 
but that of a desire to fulfil the will of God. They 
were, as He says, like children sitting in the market- 



6 



THE SALVATION OF THE HEARER [Disc. 



place, which cry to their companions, saying, " We 
have piped to you, and you have not danced ; we 
have lamented to you, and you have not mourned." 
And then He goes on to account for it : "I thank 
Thee, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that Thou 
hast hid these things from the wise and prudent, and 
hast revealed them to little ones. Yea, Father ; for 
so hath it been pleasing in Thy sight." 

Let the world have its way, let it say what it will 
about us, my brethren ; but that does not hinder our 
saying what we think, and what the eternal God 
thinks and says, about the world. We have as 
good a right to have our judgment about the world, 
as the world to have its judgment about us : and we 
mean to exercise that right ; for, while we know it 
judges us amiss, we have God's testimony that we 
judge it truly. While, then, it is eager in ascrib- 
ing our earnestness to some motive or principle 
of its own, listen to me, while I show you, as it is not 
difficult to do, tbat it is our very fear and hatred of 
those motives and principles, and our compassion 
for the souls possessed by them, which makes us 
so busy and so troublesome, which prompts us to 
settle down in a district, so destitute of temporal 
recommendations, but so overrun with religious 
error and so populous in souls. 

O my brethren, little does the world, engrossed, 
as it is, with things of time and sense, little does it 
understand what is the real state of the soul of man, 
how he stands in God's sight, what is his past history, 



I.] THE MOTIVE OF THE PREACHER. 7 

and what his prospects for the future. The world 
forms its views of things for itself, and lives in them. 
It never stops to consider whether they are true ; it 
does not come into its thought to seek for any 
external standard, or channel of information, by 
which their truth can be ascertained. It is content 
to take things for granted according to their first 
appearance; it does not stop to think of God; it 
lives for the day, and (in a perverse sense) " is not 
careful for the morrow." What it sees, tastes, 
handles, is enough for it; this is the limit of its 
knowledge and of its aspirations ; what tells, what 
works well, is alone respectable ; efficiency is the rule 
of duty, and success is the test of truth. It believes 
what it experiences, it disbelieves what it cannot 
demonstrate. And, in consequence, it teaches that 
a man has not much to do to be saved ; that either 
he has committed no great sins, or that he has been 
pardoned for committing them ; that he may securely 
trust in God's mercy for eternity ; and that he must 
avoid any thing like self-discipline and mortification, 
as affronting or derogatory to it. This is what the 
world teaches, by its many sects and philosophies, 
about our condition in this life ; but what, on the 
other hand, does the Catholic Church teach con- 
cerning it ? 

She teaches that man was originally made in 
God's image, was God's adopted son, was God's 
friend, God's heir, heir of eternal glory, and, in fore- 
taste of eternity, partaker in this life of great gifts 



8 THE SALVATION OF THE HEARER [Disc. 

and manifold graces ; and she teaches, that now he 
is a fallen being. He is under the curse of original 
sin ; he is deprived of the grace of God ; he is a 
child of wrath ; he cannot attain to heaven, and he 
is in imminent peril of sinking into hell. I do 
not say he is fated to perdition by some necessary 
law ; he cannot perish without his own real will and 
deed, and God gives him, even in his natural state, a 
multitude of inspirations and helps to lead him on 
to faith and obedience. There is no one born of 
Adam but might be saved, as far as divine assist- 
ances are concerned ; yet, looking at the power of 
temptation, the force of the passions, the strength of 
self-love and self-will, the sovereignty of pride and 
sloth, in every one of his children, who will be bold 
enough to assert of any particular soul, that it will 
be able to maintain itself in obedience, without an 
abundance, a profusion of grace, not to be ex- 
pected, as bearing no proportion, I do not say simply 
to the claims (for they are none), but to the strict 
needs of human nature % We may securely pro- 
phesy of every man born into the world, that, if he 
comes to years of understanding, he will, in spite of 
God's general assistances, fall into mortal sin and 
lose his soul. It is no light, no ordinary succour, by 
which man is taken out of his own hands and 
defended against himself. He requires an extra- 
ordinary remedy. Now what a thought is this ! 
what a light does it cast upon man's present state ! 
how different from the view which the world takes 



I.] THE MOTIVE OF THE PREACHER. 9 

of it ! how piercing, how overpowering in its in- 
fluence on the hearts of those who admit it ! 

Contemplate, my brethren, more minutely the 
history of a soul born into the world, and then 
educated according to its principles, and the idea, 
which I am putting before you, will grow on you. 
The poor infant passes through his two, or three, or 
five years of innocence, blessed in that he cannot yet 
sin ; but at length, (O woeful day !) he begins to 
realize the distinction between right and wrong. 
Alas ! sooner or later, for the age varies, but sooner 
or later the awful day has come ; he has the power, 
the great, the dreadful, the awful power of judg- 
ing a thing to be wrong, and yet doing it. He 
has a distinct view that he shall grievously offend 
his Maker and his Judge by doing this or that ; and, 
while he is really able to keep from it, he is at 
liberty to choose it, and to commit it. He has the 
dreadful power of committing a mortal sin. Young 
as he is, he has as true an apprehension of it, and 
can give as real a consent, as did the evil spirit, 
when he fell. The day is come, and who shall say 
whether it will have closed, whether it will have run 
out many hours, before he will have exercised that 
power, and have perpetrated, in fact, what he ought 
not to do, what he need not do, what he can do ? 
Who is there whom we ever knew, of whom we can 
assert that, had he remained in a state of nature, 
he would have used the grace given him, — that 
if he be in a state of nature, he has used the 



10 THE SALVATION OF THE HEARER [Disc. 

grace given him, — in such a way as to escape 
the guilt and penalty of offending Almighty God ? 
No, my brethren, a large town like this is a 
fearful sight. We walk the streets, and what 
numbers are there of those who meet us who 
have never been baptized at all ! And the re- 
mainder, what is it made up of, but for the 
most part of those who, though baptized, have 
sinned against the grace given them, and even from 
early youth have thrown themselves out of that 
fold in which alone is salvation ! Reason and sin 
have gone together from the first. Poor child ! he 
looks the same to his parents ; they do not know 
what has been going on in him ; or perhaps, did 
they know it, they would think very little of it, 
for they are in a state of mortal sin as well as 
he. They too, long before they knew each other, 
had sinned, and mortally too, and were never recon- 
ciled to God ; so they lived for years, unmindful 
of their state. At length they married ; it was 
a day of joy to them, but not to the Angels ; they 
might be in high life or in low estate, they might 
be prosperous or not in their temporal course, but 
their union was not blessed by God. They gave 
birth to a child ; he was not condemned to hell on 
his birth, but he had the omens of evil upon him, 
it seemed that he would go the way of all flesh : 
and now the time is come ; the presage is justified ; 
the forbidden fruit has been eaten ; sin has been 
devoured with a pleased appetite ; the gates of hell 



I.] 



THE MOTIVE OF THE PREACHER. 



11 



Lave yawned upon him, silently and without his 
knowing it; he has no eyes to see its flames, but 
its inhabitants are gazing upon him ; his place in 
it is fixed beyond dispute; — unless his Maker in- 
terfere in some extraordinary way, he is doomed. 

Yet his intellect does not stay its growth, because 
he is the slave of sin. It opens : time passes ; he 
learns perhaps various things ; he may have good 
abilities, and be taught to cultivate them. He may 
have engaging manners ; any how he is light-hearted 
and merry, as boys are. He is gradually educated 
for the world ; he forms his own judgments, chooses 
his principles, and is moulded to a certain character. 
That character may be more, it may be less amiable ; 
it may have much or little of natural virtue : it 
matters not : the mischief is within ; it is done, and 
it spreads. The devil is unloosed and abroad in him. 
For a while, he used some sort of prayers, but he 
has left them off ; they were but a form, and he had 
no heart for it ; — why should he continue them % and 
what was the use of them ? and what the obligation % 
So he has reasoned ; and he has acted upon his 
reasoning, and ceased to pray. Perhaps this was his 
first sin, that original mortal sin, which threw him 
out of grace, — a disbelief in the power of prayer. As 
a child, he refused to pray, and argued that he was 
too old to pray, and that his parents did not pray. 
He gave prayer up, and in came the devil, and took 
possession of him, and made himself at home, and 
revelled in his heart. 



12 THE SALVATION OF THE HEARER [Disc. 



Poor child ! Every day adds fresh and fresh 
mortal sins to his account; the pleadings of grace 
have less and less effect upon him ; he breathes the 
breath of evil, and day by day becomes more fatally 
corrupted. He has cast off the thought of God, and 
sets up self in His place. He has rejected the tradi- 
tions of religion which float about him, and has chosen 
instead the more congenial traditions of the world, to 
be the guide of his life. He is confident in his own 
views, and does not suspect that evil is before him 
and in his path. He learns to scoff at serious men 
and serious things, catches at any story circulated 
against them, and speaks positively when he has no 
means of judging or knowing. The less he believes 
of revealed doctrine, the wiser he thinks himself to 
be. Or, if his natural temper keeps him from be- 
coming hard-hearted, still from easiness and from 
imitation he joins in mockery of holy persons and 
holy things, as far as they come across him. He is 
sharp and ready and humorous, and employs these 
talents in the cause of Satan. He has a secret anti- 
pathy to religious truths and religious doings, a 
disgust which he is scarcely aware of, and could not 
explain, if he were. So was it with Cain, the eldest 
born of Adam, who went on to murder his brother, 
because his works were just. So was it with those 
poor boys at Bethel who mocked the great prophet 
Eliseus, crying out, Go up, thou bald head ! Any 
thing serves the purpose of a scoff and taunt to the 
natural man, when irritated by the sight of religion. 



I.] 



THE MOTIVE OF THE PREACHER. 



13 



O my brethren, I might go on to mention those 
other more loathsome and more hidden wickednesses 
which germinate and propagate within him, as time 
proceeds, and life opens on him. Alas ! who shall 
sound the depths of that evil whose wages is death ? 
O what a dreadful sight to look on is this fallen 
world, specious and fair outside, plausible in its pro- 
fessions, ashamed of its own sins, and hiding them, 
jet a mass of corruption under the surface ! Ashamed 
of its sins, vet not confessing to itself that they are 
sins, but defending them if conscience upbraids, and 
perhaps boldly saying, or at least implying, that, if an 
impulse be allowable in itself, it must be right in an 
individual, nay, that self-gratification is its own war- 
rant, and that temptation is the voice of God. Why 
should I attempt to analyze the intermingling influ- 
ences, or to describe the combined power, of pride 
and concupiscence, — concupiscence exploring a way 
to evil, and pride fortifying the road, — till the first 
elementary truths of revelation are looked upon as 
mere nursery tales ? No, I have intended nothing 
more than to put wretched nature upon its course, 
as I may call it, and there to leave it, my brethren, 
to your reflections, to that individual comment which 
each of you may be able to put on this poor delinea- 
tion, realizing in your own mind and your own con- 
science what no words can duly set forth. 

His temporal course proceeds : the boy has become 
a man ; he has taken up a profession or a trade ; he 
has fair success in it ; he marries, as his father did 



14 



THE SALVATION OF THE HEARER [Disc. 



before him, He plays his part in the scene of mor- 
tal life ; his connexions extend as he gets older : 
whether in a higher or a lower sphere of society he 
has his reputation and his influence ; — the reputation 
and the influence of, we will say, a sensible, prudent, 
and shrewd man. His children grow up around 
him ; middle age is over, — his sun declines in the 
heavens. In the balance and by the measure of the 
world, he is come to an honourable and venerable 
old age ; he has been a child of the world, and the 
world acknowledges and praises him. But what is 
he in the balance of heaven ? What shall we say of 
God's judgment of him ? What about his soul ? — 
about his soul ? Ah, his soul ! he had forgotten that ; 
he had forgotten he had a soul, but it remains from 
first to last in the sight of its Maker. Pomisti 
sceculwn nostrum in iUuminatione vultus Tui ; 
" Thou hast placed our life in the illumination of 
Thy countenance." Alas ! alas ! about his soul the 
world knows, the world cares, nought ; it does not 
recognize the soul; it owns nothing in him but an 
intellect manifested in a mortal frame ; it cares for the 
man while he is here, it loses sight of him when he 
is there. Still the time is coming when he is leaving 
here, and will find himself there ; he is going out of 
sight, amid the shadows of that unseen world, about 
which the visible world is so sceptical ; so, it con- 
cerns us who have a belief of that unseen world, to 
inquire, How fares it all this while with his soul? 
Alas ! he has had pleasures and satisfactions in life, 



I ] THE MOTIVE OF THE PREACHER. 15 

he has a good name among men ; he sobered his 
views as life went on, and he began to think that 
order and religion were good things, that a certain 
deference was to be paid to the religion of his coun- 
try, and a certain attendance to be given to its 
public worship ; but he is still, in our Lord's words, 
nothing else but a whited sepulchre ; he is foul 
within with the bones of the dead and all unclean- 
ness. All the sins of his youth, never repented of, 
never put away, his old profanenesses, his impurities, 
his animosities, his idolatries are rotting within him ; 
only covered over and hidden by successive layers of 
newer and later sins. His heart is the home of 
darkness, it has been handled, defiled, possessed by 
evil spirits ; he is a being without faith, and without 
hope ; if he holds any thing for truth, it is only as 
an opinion, and if he has a sort of calmness and 
peace, it is the calmness not of heaven, but of decay 
and dissolution. And now his old enemy has thrust 
aside his good angel, and is sitting near him ; re- 
joicing in his victory, and patiently waiting for his 
prey ; not tempting him to fresh sins lest he should 
disturb his conscience, but simply letting well alone ; 
letting him amuse himself with shadows of faith, 
shadows of piety, shadows of worship ; aiding him 
readily in dressing himself up in some form of 
religion which may satisfy the weakness of his de- 
clining age, as knowing well that he cannot last long, 
that his death is a matter of time, and that he shall 



16 THE SALVATION OF THE HEARER [Disc. 



soon be able to carry him down with him to his 
fiery dwelling. 

O how awful ! and at last the inevitable hour is 
come. He dies — he dies quietly — his friends are 
satisfied about him. They return thanks that God 
has taken him, has released him from the troubles 
of life and the pains of sickness ; " a good father," 
they say, " a good neighbour," " sincerely lamented," 
" lamented by a large circle of friends." Perhaps they 
add, " dying with a firm trust in the mercy of God ;" 
— nay, he has need of something beyond mercy, he 
has need of some attribute which is inconsistent with 
perfection, and which is not, cannot be, in the All- 
glorious, All-holy God ; — " with a trust in the pro- 
mises of the Gospel," which never were his, or 
were early forfeited. And then, as time travels on, 
every now and then is heard some passing remem- 
brance of him, respectful or tender ; but he all the 
while (in spite of this false world, and though its 
children will not have it so, and exclaim, and 
protest, and are indignant when so solemn a truth is 
hinted at) long ago he has lifted up his eyes, being in 
torment, and lies " buried in hell." 

Such is the history of a man in a state of nature, 
or in a state of defection, to whom the Gospel has 
never been a reality, in whom the good seed has 
never taken root, on whom God's grace has been 
shed in vain, with whom it has never prevailed so 
far as to make him seek His face and to ask for 



I.] THE MOTIVE OF THE PREACHER. 17 

those higher gifts which lead to heaven. Such is 
his dark record. But I have spoken of only one man: 
alas ! my dear brethren, it is the record of thousands ; 
it is, in one shape or other, the record of all the 
children of the world. " As soon as they are born," 
the wise man says, "they forthwith have ceased to be, 
and they are powerless to show any sign of virtue, and 
are wasted away in their wickedness." They may be 
rich or poor, learned or ignorant, polished or rude, 
decent outwardly and self-disciplined, or scandalous 
in their lives, — but at bottom they are all one and the 
same ; they have not faith, they have not love ; they 
are impure, or they are proud, commonly they are 
both together ; they agree together very well, both 
in opinions and in conduct; they see that they agree; 
and this agreement they take as a proof that their 
conduct is right and their opinions true. Such as is 
the tree, such is the fruit; no wonder the fruit is 
the same, when it comes of the same root of unre- 
generate, unrenewed nature : but they consider it 
good and wholesome, because it is the produce of 
many hearts; and they chase away, as odious, un- 
bearable, and horrible, the pure and heavenly doctrine 
of Revelation, because it is so severe upon themselves. 
No one likes bad news, no one welcomes what con- 
demns him ; the world slanders the Truth in self- 
defence, because the Truth denounces the world. 

My brethren, if these things be so, or rather (for 
this is the point here), if we, Catholics, firmly believe 
them to be so, so firmly believe them, that we feel 

c 



18 



THE SALVATION OF THE HEARER 



[Disc 



it would be our duty to die sooner than doubt them, 
is it wonderful, does it require any abstruse explana- 
tion, that such as we should come into the midst of 
a population such as this, and into a neighbourhood 
where religious error has sway, and where corruption 
of life prevails both as its cause and as its conse- 
quence ; — a population, not worse indeed than the 
rest of the world, but not better, not better because 
it has not in it the gift of Catholic truth, not purer 
because it has not within it that gift of grace which 
alone can destroy impurity; a population, sinful, 
I am certain, given to unlawful indulgences, laden 
with guilt and exposed to eternal ruin, because it is 
not blessed with that Presence of the Word Incarnate, 
which diffuses sweetness, and tranquillity, and chastity, 
over the heart ; — is it a thing to be marvelled at, that 
we begin to preach to such a population as this, for 
w T hich Christ died, and try to convert it to Him and to 
His Church ? Is it necessary to ask for reasons ? is it 
necessary to assign motives of this world, for a pro- 
ceeding which is so natural in those who believe in 
the announcements and requirements of the other % 
My dear brethren, if we are sure that the Most 
Holy Redeemer has shed His blood for all men, is 
it not a very plain and simple consequence that we, 
His servants, His brethren, His priests, should be 
unwilling to see that blood shed in vain, — wasted, 
I may say, — as regards you, and should wish to 
make you partakers of those benefits which we 
ourselves enjoy ? Is it necessary for any bystander 



L] THE MOTIVE OF THE PREACHER. VJ 

to call us vain-glorious, or ambitious, or restless, 
greedy of authority, fond of power, resentful, party- 
spirited, or the like, when here is so much more 
powerful, more present, more influential a motive to 
which our eagerness and zeal may be ascribed ? 
What is so powerful an incentive to preaching as 
the sure belief that it is the preaching of the truth ? 
What so constrains to the conversion of souls, as the 
consciousness that they are at present in guilt and 
peril? What so great a persuasive to bring men 
into the Church, as the conviction that it is the 
special means by which God effects the salvation of 
those whom the world trains in sin and unbelief? 
Only admit us to believe what we profess, and surely 
that is not asking a great deal, (for what have 
we done that we should be distrusted 1) only admit 
us to believe what we profess, and you will under- 
stand without difficulty what we are doing. We 
come among you, because we believe that there is 
but one way of salvation, marked out from the 
beginning, and that you are not walking along it; 
we come among you as ministers of that extraordi- 
nary grace of God, which you need ; we come among 
you because we have received a great gift from God 
ourselves, and wish you to be partakers of our joy ; 
because it is written, " Gratis ye have received, gratis 
give ;" because we dare not hide in a napkin those 
mercies, and that grace of God, which have been 
given us, not for our own sake only, but for the 
benefit of others. 

c2 



20 THE SALVATION OF THE HEARER [Disc. 

Such a zeal, poor and feeble though it be in us, 
has been the very life of the Church, and the breath 
of her preachers and missionaries in all ages. It was 
such a sacred fire which brought our Lord from 
heaven, and which He desired, which He travailed, 
to communicate to all around Him. " I am come 
to send fire on the earth," He says, " and what will I, 
but that it be kindled V Such too was the feeling 
of the great Apostle to whom his Lord appeared in 
order to impart to him this fire. " I send thee to 
the Gentiles," He had said to him on his conversion, 
" to open their eyes, that they may be converted from 
darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto 
God." And accordingly he at once began to preach 
to them, that they should do penance, and turn to 
God with worthy fruits of penance, " for," as he says, 
" the charity of Christ urged him," and he was " made 
all things to all that he might save all," and he 
" bore all for the elect's sake, that they might obtain 
the salvation which is in Christ Jesus, with heavenly 
glory." Such too was the fire of zeal which burned 
within those preachers, to whom we English owe our 
Christianity. What brought them from Rome to 
this distant isle, and to a barbarian people, amid 
many fears and with much suffering, but the sove- 
reign uncontrollable desire to save the perishing, and 
to knit the members and slaves of Satan into the body 
of Christ? This has been the secret of the propaga- 
tion of the Church from the very first, and will be 
to the end ; this is why the Church, under the grace 



I.] THE MOTIVE OF THE PREACHER. 21 

of God, to the surprise of the world, converts the 
nations, and no sect can do the like ; this is why 
Catholic missionaries throw themselves so generously 
among the fiercest savages and risk the most cruel 
torments, as knowing the worth of the soul, as real- 
izing the world to come, as loving their brethren 
dearly, though they never saw them, as shuddering 
at the thought of eternal woe, and as desiring to 
increase the fruit of their Lord's passion and the 
triumphs of His grace. 

We, my brethren, are not worthy to be named in 
connexion with Evangelists, Saints, and Martyrs ; 
we come to you in a peaceable time and in a well- 
ordered state of society, and recommended by that 
secret awe and reverence, which, say what they will, 
Englishmen for the most part or in good part, feel 
for the religion of their fathers, which has left in 
the land so many memorials of its former sway. It 
requires no great zeal in us, no great charity, to 
come to you at no risk, and entreat you to turn 
from the path of death, and be saved. It requires 
nothing great, nothing heroic, nothing saintlike ; it 
does but require conviction, and that we have, that 
the Catholic religion is from God, and all other 
religions are but mockeries ; it requires nothing 
more than faith, a single purpose, an honest heart, 
and a distinct utterance. We come to you in the 
Name of God ; we ask no more of you, than that 
you would listen to us ; we ask no more than that 
you would judge for yourselves whether or not we 



22 THE SALVATION OF THE HEARER, &c. 

speak God's words ; it shall rest with you whether 
we be God's priests and prophets or no. This is not 
much to ask, but it is more than most men will 
grant; they do not dare to listen to us, they are 
impatient through prejudice, or they dread convic- 
tion. Yes ! many a one there is, who has even good 
reason to listen to us, on whom we have a claim to 
be heard, who ought to have a certain trust in us, 
who yet shuts his ears, and turns away, and chooses 
to hazard eternity without weighing what we have 
to say. How frightful is this ; but you are not, you 
cannot be such; we ask not your confidence, my 
brethren, for you have never known us : we are not 
asking you to take for granted what we say, for we 
are strangers to you ; we do but simply bid you first 
to consider that you have souls to be saved, and 
next to judge for yourselves, whether, if God has 
revealed a religion of His own whereby to save those 
souls, that religion can be any other than the faith 
which we preach. 



DISCOURSE II. 



NEGLECT OF DIVINE CALLS AND WARNINGS. 



No one sins without making some excuse to him- 
self for sinning. He is obliged to do so : man is not 
like the brute beasts ; he has a divine gift within 
him which we call reason, and which constrains him 
to give an account to it for what he does. He 
cannot act at random; however he acts, he must 
act by some kind of rule, on some sort of principle, 
else he is vexed and dissatisfied with himself. Not 
that he is very particular whether he finds a good 
reason or a bad, when he is very much straitened 
for a reason, but a reason of some sort he must 
have. Hence you sometimes find that those who 
give up religious duty, attack the conduct of reli- 
gious men, whether their acquaintance, or the 
ministers or professors of religion, as a sort of 
excuse — a very bad one — for their neglect. Others, 
and Catholics too, will make the excuse that they 



24 



NEGLECT OF DIVINE CALLS 



[Disc. 



are so far from church, or so closely occupied at 
home, whether they will or not, that they cannot 
serve God as they ought. Others say that it is 
no use trying, that they have again and again gone 
to confession, and tried to keep out of mortal sin 
and cannot; and so they give up the attempt as 
hopeless. Others, who are not Catholics, when they 
fall into sin, excuse themselves on the plea that 
they are but following nature; that the impulses 
of nature are so very strong, and that it cannot 
be wrong to follow that nature which God has 
given us. Others are bolder still, and they cast 
off religion altogether: they deny its truth; they 
deny Church, Gospel, and Bible ; they go so far 
perhaps as even to deny God's governance of His 
creatures. They boldly deny that there is any life 
after death : and, this being the case, of course they 
would be fools indeed not to take their pleasure 
here, and to make as much of this poor life as 
they can. 

And there are others, and to these I am going 
to address myself, who try to speak peace to them- 
selves by cherishing the thought that something or 
other will happen after all to keep them from 
eternal ruin, though they now continue in their 
neglect of God ; that it is a long time yet to death ; 
that there are many chances in their favour ; that 
they shall repent in process of time, when they get 
old, as a matter of course ; that they mean to repent 
some day ; that they mean, sooner or later, seriously 



IL] 



AND WARNINGS. 



25 



to take their state into account, and to make their 
ground good ; and, if they are Catholics, they add, 
that at least they will die with the last Sacraments, 
and that therefore they need not trouble themselves 
about the matter. 

Now these persons, my brethren, tempt God ; 
they try Him, how far His goodness will go ; and, it 
may be, they will try Him too long, and will have 
experience, not of His gracious forgiveness, but of 
His severity and His justice. In this spirit it was 
that the Israelites in the desert conducted them- 
selves towards Almighty God ; instead of feeling- 
awe of Him, they were free with Him, treated Him 
familiarly, made excuses, preferred complaints, up- 
braided Him ; as if the Eternal God had been a 
weak man, as if He had been their minister and 
servant ; in consequence, we are told by the inspired 
historian, " The Lord sent among the people fiery 
serpents." To this St. Paul refers, when he says, 
" Neither let us tempt Christ, as some of them 
tempted, and were perished by serpents ;" a warn- 
ing to us now, that those who are forward and bold 
with their Almighty Saviour, will gain, not the 
pardon which they look for, but will find them- 
selves within the folds of the old serpent, will drink 
in his poisonous breath, and at length will die under 
his fangs. He appeared in person to our blessed 
Lord in the days of His flesh, and tried to entangle 
Him, the Son of the Highest, in this sin. He placed 
Him on the pinnacle of the Temple, and said to 



26 



NEGLECT OF DIVINE CALLS. [Disc. 



Him, "If thou art the Son of God, cast Thyself 
down, for it is written, He has given His Angels 
charge of Thee, and in their hands they shall lift 
Thee, lest perchance Thou strike Thy foot against a 
stone;" but our Lord's answer was, "It is also 
written, Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God." 
And so numbers are tempted now to cast themselves 
headlong down the precipice of sin, assuring them- 
selves they will never reach the Hell which lies at 
the bottom, never dash upon its sharp rocks, or be 
plunged into its flames ; for Angels and Saints are 
there, in their extremity, in their final need, or at 
least God's general mercies, or His particular pro- 
mises, to interpose and bear them away safely. 
Such is the sin of these men, my brethren, of which 
I am going to speak ; not the sin of unbelief, or of 
pride, or of despair, but of presumption. 

I will state more distinctly the kind of thoughts 
which go through their minds, and which quiet and 
satisfy them in their course of irreligion. They say 
to themselves, " I cannot give up sin now ; I cannot 
give up this or that indulgence; I cannot break 
myself of this habit of intemperance ; I cannot 
do without these unlawful gains; I cannot leave 
these employers or superiors, which keep me from 
following my conscience. It is impossible I should 
serve God now ; and I do not feel the wish to 
repent; I have no heart for religion. But it will 
come easier by-and-by; it will be as natural then 
to repent and be religious, as it is now natural to 



II.] 



AND WARNINGS. 



27 



sin. I shall then have fewer temptations, fewer 
difficulties. Old people are sometimes indeed repro- 
bates, but, generally speaking, they are religious ; 
they are religious almost as a matter of course ; 
they may curse and swear a little, and tell lies, and 
do such like little things ; but still they are clear of 
mortal sin, and would be safe if they were suddenly 
taken off." And when some particular temptation 
comes on them, they think, " It is only one sin, and 
I never did the like before, and never will again, 
while I live ;" or, " I have done as bad before now, 
and it is only one sin more, and I shall have to 
repent any how ; and while I am about it, it will be 
as easy to repent of one sin more as of one less, for 
I shall have to repent of all sin ;" or again, " If I 
perish, I shall not w T ant company ; — what will happen 
to this person or that 1 I am quite a Saint com- 
pared with such a one ; and I have known men 
repent, who had done much worse things than I 
have done." 

Now, my dear brethren, those who make such 
excuses to themselves, know neither what sin is in 
itself, nor what their sins are ; they understand 
neither the heinousness nor the multitude of their 
sins. It is necessary, then, to state distinctly one or 
two points of doctrine, which will serve to put this 
matter in a clearer view than men are accustomed 
to take of it. These are very simple and very 
obvious, but are quite forgotten by the persons of 
whom I have been speaking, or they would never 



NEGLECT OF DIVINE CALLS 



[Disc. 



be able to satisfy their reason and their conscience 
by such frivolous pleas and excuses, as those which I 
have been drawing out. 

First then observe, that when a person says, " I 
have sinned as badly before now," or, " this is only 
one sin more," or, " I must repent any how, and 
then will repent once for all," and the like, he for- 
gets that all his former sins are in God's keeping and 
in the book of judgment, and that the sin he is now 
committing is not a mere single, isolated, sin, but 
that it is one of a series, of a long catalogue ; and, 
that though it be but one, it is not sin one, or sin 
two, or sin three in the list, but it is the thousandth, 
the ten thousandth, or the hundred thousandth, it is 
the last in a long course of sinning. It is not the 
first of his sins, but the last, and perhaps the very 
last, the finishing sin. He himself forgets, manages 
to forget, or tries to forget, wishes to forget, all his 
antecedent sins, or remembers them merelv as 
instances of his having sinned with impunity before, 
and proofs that he may sin with impunity still. But 
every sin has a history : it is not an accident ; it is 
the fruit of former sins in thought or in deed ; it is 
the token of a habit deeply seated and far extend- 
ing ; it is the aggravation of a virulent disease ; and, 
as the last straw is said to break the horse's back, so 
our last sin, whatever it is, is that which destroys our 
hope, and forfeits our place in heaven. Therefore, 
my brethren, it is but the craft of the devil, which 
makes you take your sins one by one, while God 



II.] 



AND WARNINGS. 



29 



views them as a whole. "Signasti, quasi in saccido, 
delicta mea" says holy Job, " Thou hast sealed up 
my sins as in a bag," and one day they will all be 
counted out. Separate sins are like the touches and 
strokes which the painter gives, first one and then 
another, to the picture on his canvas ; and like the 
stones w r hich the mason piles up and cements to- 
gether for the house he is building. They are all 
connected together ; they tend to a whole; they look 
towards an end, and they hasten to their fulfilment. 

Go, commit this siu, my brethren, to which you 
are tempted, which you persist in viewing in it- 
self alone, look on it as Eve looked on the for- 
bidden fruit, dwell upon its lightness and insignifi- 
cance ; and perhaps you may find it just the coping- 
stone of your high tower of iniquity, which comes 
into remembrance before God, and fills up the 
measure of your iniquities. " Fill ye up," says our 
Lord to the hypocritical Pharisees, " the measure of 
your fathers." The wrath, which came on Jerusalem, 
was not simply caused by the sins of that day, in 
which Christ came, though in that day was com- 
mitted the most awful of all sins, viz., His rejection ; 
yet that was but the crowning sin of a long course of 
rebellion. So again, in an earlier age, the age of 
Abraham, ere the chosen people had got possession 
of the land of promise, there was great and heinous 
sin among the heathen who inhabited it, yet they 
were not put out at once, and Abraham brought 
in ; — why ? because God's mercies were not yet 



so 



NEGLECT OF DIVINE CALLS 



[Disc. 



exhausted towards them. He still bestowed His 
grace on the abandoned people, and waited for their 
repentance. But He foresaw that He should wait 
in vain, and that the time of vengeance would 
come ; and this He implied when He said, that He 
did not give the chosen seed the land at once, " for 
as yet the iniquities of the Amorrhites were not at 
the full." But they did come to the full some hundred 
years afterwards, and then the Israelites were brought 
in, with the command to destroy them utterly with 
the sword. And again, you know the history of the 
impious Baltassar. In his proud feast, when he was 
now filled with wine, he sent for the gold and silver 
vessels which belonged to the Temple at Jerusalem, 
and had been brought to Babylon on the taking of 
the holy city, — he sent for these sacred vessels, that 
out of them he might drink more wine, he, his 
nobles, his wives, and his concubines. In that hour, 
the fingers as of a man's hand were seen upon the 
wall of the banqueting-room, writing the doom of 
the king and of his kingdom. The words were 
these : " God hath numbered thy kingdom, and hath 
finished it ; thou art weighed in the balance, and art 
found wanting." That wretched prince had kept no 
account of his sins ; as a spendthrift keeps no ac- 
count of his debts, so he went on day after day and 
year after year, revelling in pride, cruelty, and 
sensual indulgence, and insulting his Master, till at 
length he exhausted the Divine Mercy, and filled up 
the chalice of wrath. His hour came : one more sin 



II.] 



AND WARNINGS. 



81 



he did, and the cup overflowed ; vengeance overtook 
him on the instant, and he was cut off from the 
earth. 

And that last sin need not be a great sin, need not 
be greater than those which have gone before it ; 
perhaps it may be less. There was a rich man, 
mentioned by our Lord, who, when his crops were 
plentiful, said within himself, " What shall I do, for 
I have not where to bestow my fruits? I will 
pull down my barns, and build greater ; and I will 
say to my soul, Soul, thou hast much goods laid up 
for many years ; take thy rest, eat, drink, make good 
cheer." He was carried off that very night. This 
was not a very striking sin, and surely it was not his 
first sin ; it was the last instance of a long course 
of acts of self-sufficiency and forgetfulness of God, 
not greater in intensity than any before it, but com- 
pleting their number. And so again, when the 
father of that impious king, whom I just now spoke 
of, when Nabuchodonosor had for a whole year neg- 
lected the warning of the prophet Daniel, calling 
him to turn from his pride and to repent, as he 
walked one day in the palace of Babylon, he said, 
" Is not this great Babylon, which I have built for 
the home of the kingdom, in the strength of my power 
and in the glory of my excellence ?" and forthwith, 
while the word was yet in his mouth, judgment 
came upon him, and he was smitten with a new and 
strange disease, so that he was driven from men, and 
ate hay like the ox, and grew wild in his appear- 



32 



NEGLECT OF DIVINE CALLS 



[Disc. 



ance, and lived in the open field. His consummating 
act of pride was not greater, perhaps, than any one 
of those which through the twelvemonth had pre- 
ceded it. 

No ; you cannot decide, my brethren, whether 
you are outrunning God's mercy, merely because 
the sin you now commit seems to be a small one ; 
it is not always the greatest sin that is the last. 
Moreover you cannot calculate, which is the last 
sin, by the particular number of those which have 
gone before it, for this varies in different persons. 
This is another very serious circumstance. You 
may have committed but one or two sins, and yet 
find that you are ruined beyond redemption, though 
others who have done more are not. Why we 
know not, but God, who shows mercy and gives 
grace to all, shows greater mercy and gives more 
abundant grace to one man than another. To all 
He gives sufficient for their salvation ; to all He 
gives far more than they have any right to ex- 
pect ; and they can claim none ; but to some He 
gives far more than to others. He tells us Himself, 
that, if the inhabitants of Tyre and Sidon had seen 
the miracles done in Chorazin, they would have 
done penance and turned to Him. Till we set this 
before ourselves, we have not a right view either 
of sin in itself, or of our own prospects if we live 
in it. As God determines to each the measure 
of his stature, and the complexion of his mind, and 
the number of his days, yet not the same to all ; as 



II.] 



AND WARNINGS. 



33 



one child of Adam is pre-ordained to live one 
day, and another eighty years, so is it fixed that 
one should be reserved for his eightieth sin, 
another cut off after his first. Why this is, we 
know not : but it is parallel to what is done in 
human matters without exciting any surprise. Of 
two convicted offenders one is pardoned, one is left 
to his sentence ; and this might be done where there 
was nothing to choose between the guilt of the one 
and of the other, and where the reasons which de- 
termine the difference of dealing towards the one 
and the other, whatever they are, are external to 
the individuals themselves. In like manner you have 
heard, I dare say, of decimating rebels, when they 
had been captured, that is, of executing every tenth 
and letting off the rest. So it is also with God's 
judgments, though we cannot sound the reasons of 
them. He is not obliged to let off any ; He has the 
power to condemn all : I only bring this to show 
how our views of justice here below do not preclude 
a difference of dealing with individuals. The Creator 
gives one man time for repentance, He carries off 
another by sudden death. He allows one man to 
die with the last Sacraments ; another dies without a 
Priest to receive his imperfect contrition, and to 
absolve him : the one is pardoned, and will go to 
heaven ; the other goes to the place of eternal pun- 
ishment. No one can say how it will happen in his 
own case ; no one can promise himself that he shall 
have time to repentance ; or, if he have time, that 

D 



34 



NEGLECT OF DIVINE CALLS 



[Disc. 



he shall have any supernatural movement of the 
heart towards God : or, even then, that a Priest will 
be at hand to give him absolution. We may have 
sinned less than our next door neighbour, yet that 
neighbour may be reserved for repentance and may 
reign with Christ, while we may be punished with 
the evil spirit. 

Nay, some have been cut off and sent to hell for 
their first sin. This was the case, as divines teach, 
as regards the rebel Angels. For their first sin, and 
that a sin of thought, a single perfected act of pride, 
they lost their first estate, and became devils. And 
Saints and holy people record instances of men, aud 
even children, who in like manner have uttered a 
first blasphemy or other deliberate sin, and were cut 
off without remedy. And a number of similar 
instances occur in Scripture ; I mean of the awful 
punishment of a single sin, without respect to the 
virtue and general excellence of the sinner. Adam, 
for a single sin, small in appearance, the eating the 
forbidden fruit, lost Paradise, and implicated all his 
posterity in his own ruin. The Bethsamites looked 
at the ark of the Lord, and more than fifty thousand 
of them in consequence were smitten. Oza touched 
it with his hand, as if to save it from falling, and he 
was struck dead on the spot for his rashness. The 
man of God from Juda ate bread and drank water 
at Bethel, against the command of God, and he was 
forthwith killed by a lion on his return. Ananias 
and Sapphira told one lie, and fell down dead almost 



II.] 



AND WARNINGS. 



35 



as the words left their mouth. Who are we," that 
God should wait for our repentance any longer, 
when He has not waited at all, before He cut off 
those who have sinned less than we ? 

O my dear brethren, these presumptuous thoughts 
of ours arise from a defective notion of the malignity 
of sin viewed in itself. We are criminals, and we 
arejno judges in our own case. We are fond of 
ourselves, and we take our own part, and we are 
familiar with sin, and, from pride, we do not like to 
confess ourselves lost. For all these reasons, we 
have no real idea what sin is, what its punishment 
is, and what grace is. We do not know what sin is, 
because we do not know what God is ; we have no 
standard with which to compare it till we know 
what God is. Only God's glories, His perfections, 
His holiness, His majesty, His beauty, can teach us 
by the contrast how to think of sin ; and since we do 
not see God here, till we see Him, we cannot form 
a just judgment what sin is ; till we enter heaven, 
we must take what God tells us of sin, on faith. 
Nay, even then, we shall be able to condemn sin, 
only so far as we are able to see and praise and 
glorify God ; He alone can duly judge of sin who 
can comprehend God ; He only judged of sin 
according to the fulness of its evil, who, knowing 
the Father from eternity with a perfect knowledge, 
showed what He thought of sin by dying for it; 
He only, who was willing, though He was God, to 
suffer inconceivable pains of soul and body in order 

d 2 



36 



NEGLECT OF DIVINE CALLS 



[Disc. 



to make a satisfaction for it. Take His word, or 
rather, His deed, for the truth of this awful doc- 
trine, — a single mortal sin is enough to cut you off 
from God for ever. Go down to the grave with a 
single unrepented, unforgiven sin upon you, and you 
have enough to sink you down to hell; you have 
that, which to a certainty will be your ruin. It 
may be the hundredth sin, or it may be the first 
sin, no matter : one is enough to sink you ; though, 
the more you have, the deeper you will sink. You 
need not have your fill of sin to perish eternally; 
there are those who lose both this world and the 
next; they choose rebellion and receive, not its 
gains, but death. 

Or grant, that God's anger delays its course, and 
you have time to add sin to sin, this is only to 
increase the punishment when it comes. God is 
terrible, when He speaks to the sinner ; He is more 
terrible, when He refrains ; He is more terrible, 
when He is silent, and accumulates wrath. Alas ! 
there are those who are allowed to spend a long life, 
and a happy life, in neglect of Him, and have 
nothing to remind them of what is coming till their 
irreversible sentence bursts upon them. As the 
stream flows smoothly before the cataract, so with 
these persons does life pass along swiftly and silently, 
serenely and joyously. " They are not in the labour 
of men, nor with men will they be scourged." 
" They are filled with hidden things ; they are full 
of children, and leave their remains to their little 



II.] 



AND WARNINGS. 



37 



ones." " Their bouses are secure and at peace, 
neither is the rod of God upon them. Their little 
ones go out like a flock, and their children dance 
and play. They take the timbrel and the harp, and 
rejoice at the sound of the organ. They spend their 
days in good, and in a moment they go down to 
hell." So was it with Jerusalem, when God had 
deserted it ; it seemed never so prosperous before. 
Herod the king had lately rebuilt the Temple ; and 
the marbles with which it was cased were wonderful 
for size and beauty, and it rose bright and glittering 
in the morning sun. The disciples called the Lord 
to look at it, but He did but see in it the whited 
sepulchre of a reprobate people, and foretold its 
overthrow. " See ye all these things V He answered 
them, "Amen, I say to you, stone shall not be here 
left upon stone, which shall not be thrown down." 
And " He beheld the city, and wept over it, saying, 
If thou hadst known, even thou, and in this thy day, 
the things that are for thy peace, but now they are 
hidden from thine eyes !" Hid, indeed, was her 
doom ; for millions crowded within the guilty city 
at its yearly festival, and her end seemed a long way 
off, and ruin to belong to a far future age, when it 
was at the door. 

O the change, my brethren, the dismal change at 
last, when the sentence has gone forth, and life 
ends, and eternal death begins ! The poor sinner has 
gone on so long in sin, that he has forgotten he has 
sin to repent of. He has learned to forget that he 



38 



NEGLECT OF DIVINE CALLS [Disc. 



is living in a state of enmity to God. He no longer 
makes excuses, as he did at first. He lives in the 
world, and believes nothing about the Sacraments, 
nor puts any trust in a Priest, if he falls in with 
one. Perhaps he has hardly ever heard the Catholic 
religion mentioned, except for the purpose of abuse ; 
and never has spoken of it, but to ridicule it. His 
thoughts are taken up with his family and with his 
occupation ; and if he thinks of death, it is with 
repugnance, as what will separate him from this 
world, not with fear, as what will introduce him to 
another. He has ever been strong and hale. He 
has never had an illness. His family is long-lived, 
and he reckons he has a long time before him. His 
friends die before him, and he feels rather contempt 
at their nothingness, than sorrow at their departure. 
He has just married a daughter, and established a 
son in life, and he thinks of retiring from the world, 
except that he is at a loss to know how he shall em- 
ploy himself when out of it ; and then he begins to 
muse awhile over himself and his prospects, and he 
is sure of one thing, that the Creator is simple and 
mere benevolence, and he is indignant and impa- 
tient when he hears eternal punishment spoken of. 
And so he fares, whether for a long time or a short ; 
but, whatever the period, it must have an end, and 
at last the end comes. Time has gone forward 
noiselessly, and comes upon him like a thief in the 
night ; at length the hour of doom strikes, and he is 
taken away. 



II.] 



AND WARNINGS. 



39 



Perhaps, however, he was a Catholic, and then the 
very mercies of God have been perverted by him to 
his ruin. He has rested on the Sacraments, without 
caring to have the proper dispositions for attending 
them. At one time he had lived in neglect of 
religion altogether ; but there was a date when he 
felt a wish to set himself right with his Maker ; so 
he began, and has continued ever since, to go to 
Confession and Communion at convenient intervals. 
He comes again and again to the Priest ; he goes 
through his sins ; the Priest is obliged to take his 
account of them, which is a very defective account, 
and sees no reason for not giving him absolution. 
He is absolved, as far as words can absolve him ; he 
comes again to the Priest when the season comes 
round ; again he confesses, and again he has the form 
pronounced over him. He falls sick, he receives 
the last Sacraments : he receives the last rites of the 
Church, and he is lost. He is lost, because he has 
never really turned his heart to God ; or, if he had 
some poor measure of contrition for a while, it did 
not last beyond his first or second confession. He 
soon came to the Sacraments without any contrition 
at all ; he deceived himself, and left out his principal 
and most important sins. Somehow he deceived 
himself into the notion that they were not sins, or 
not mortal sins ; for some reason or other he was 
silent, and his confession became as defective as his 
contrition. Yet this scanty show of religion was 
sufficient to soothe and stupify his conscience : so he 



40 



NEGLECT OF DIVINE CALLS 



[Disc. 



went on year after year, never making a good con- 
fession, communicating in mortal sin, till he fell ill ; 
and then, I say, the viaticum and holy oil were 
brought to him, and he committed sacrilege for his 
last time, — and so he went to his God. 

O what a moment for the poor soul, when it 
comes to itself, and finds itself suddenly before the 
judgment-seat of Christ ! O what a moment, when, 
breathless with the journey, and dizzy with the 
brightness, and overcome with the strangeness of 
what is happening to him, and unable to realize where 
he is, the sinner hears the voice of the accusing spirit 
bringing up all the sins of his past life, which he has 
forgotten, or which he has explained away, which he 
would not allow to be sins, though he suspected 
they were ; when he hears him detailing all the 
mercies of God which he has despised, all His warn- 
ings which he has set at nought, all His judgments 
which he has outlived ; when that evil one follows 
out the growth and progress of a lost soul, how it 
expanded and was confirmed in sin, — how it budded 
forth into leaves and flowers, grew into branches, and 
ripened into fruit, — till nothing was wanted for its 
full condemnation ! And, oh ! still more terrible, 
still more distracting, when the Judge speaks, and 
consigns it to the jailors, till it shall pay the endless 
debt which lies against it ! " Impossible, I a lost 
soul ! I separated from hope and from peace for 
ever ! It is not I of whom the Judge so spake ! 
There is a mistake some where ; Christ, Saviour, hold 



IL] 



AND WARNINGS. 



41 



Thy hand, — one minute to explain it ! My name is 
Demas : I am but Demas, not Judas, or Nicolas, or 
Alexander, or Philetus, or Diotrephes. What? 
eternal pain ! for me ! impossible, it shall not be." 
And the poor soul struggles and wrestles in the 
grasp of the mighty demon which has hold of it, and 
whose every touch is torment. " O, atrocious!" it 
shrieks in agony, and in anger too, as if the very 
keenness of the infliction were a proof of its 
injustice. " A second ! and a third ! I can bear no 
more ! stop, horrible fiend, give over ; I am a man, 
and not such as thou ! I am not food for thee, or 
sport for thee ! I never was in hell as thou, I have 
not on me the smell of fire, nor the taint of the 
charnel-house ! I know what human feelings are ! 
I have been taught religion ; I have had a con- 
science ; I have a cultivated mind ; I am well versed 
in science and art ; I have been refined by literature ; 
I have had an eye for the beauties of nature ; I am 
a philosopher, or a poet, or a shrewd observer of 
men, or a hero, or a statesman, or an orator, or a 
man of wit and humour. Nay, — I am a Catholic ; I 
am not an unregenerate Protestant ; I have received 
the grace of the Redeemer ; I have attended the 
Sacraments for years ; I have been a Catholic from a 
child ; I am a son of the Martyrs ; I died in com- 
munion with the Church : nothing, nothing which I 
have ever been, which I have ever seen, bears any 
resemblance to thee, and to the flame and stench 



42 NEGLECT OF DIVINE CALLS [Disc. 

which exhale from thee ; so I defy thee, and abjure 
thee, O enemy of man ! " 

Alas ! poor soul ; — and whilst it thus fights with 
that destiny which it has brought upon itself, and 
those companions whom it has chosen, the man's 
name perhaps is solemnly chanted forth, and his 
memory decently cherished among his friends on 
earth. His readiness in speech, his fertility in 
thought, his sagacity, or his wisdom, are not for- 
gotten. Men talk of him from time to time ; they 
appeal to his authority ; they quote his words ; per- 
haps they even raise a monument to his name, or 
write his history. " So comprehensive a mind ! 
such a power of throwing light on a perplexed 
subject, and bringing conflicting ideas or facts into 
harmony !" " Such a speech it was that he made 
on such and such an occasion; I happened to be 
present, and never shall forget it !" or, " It was the 
saying of a very sensible man ;" or, " A great per- 
sonage, whom some of us knew ;" or, " It was a 
rule with a very worthy and excellent friend of 
mine, now no more ;" or, " Never was his equal in 
society, so just in his remarks, so lively, so versatile, 
so unobtrusive ;" or, " I was fortunate to see him 
once when I was a boy;" or, " So great a bene- 
factor to his country and to his kind ;" " His dis- 
coveries so great ;" or, " His philosophy so profound." 
O vanity ! vanity of vanities, all is vanity ! What 
profiteth it ? What proflteth it ? His soul is in hell, 



II.] 



AND WARNINGS. 



43 



O ye children of men, while thus ye speak, his soul 
is in the beginning of those torments in which his 
body will soon have part, and which will never die. 

Vanity of vanities ! misery of miseries ! they will 
not attend to us, they will not believe us. We are 
but a few in number, and they are many ; and the 
many will not give credit to the few. O misery 
of miseries ! Thousands are dying daily ; they are 
waking up into God's everlasting wrath ; they look 
back on the days of the flesh, and call them few and 
evil ; they despise and scorn the very reasonings 
which then they trusted, and which have been dis- 
proved by the event; they curse the recklessness 
which made them put off repentance ; they have 
fallen under His justice, whose mercy they pre- 
sumed upon ; — and their companions and friends are 
going on as they did, and are soon to join them. 
As the last generation presumed, so does the present. 
The father would not believe God could punish, and 
now the son will not believe ; the father was in- 
dignant when eternal pain was spoken of, and the 
son gnashes his teeth, and smiles contemptuously. 
The world spoke well of itself thirty years ago, and 
so will it thirty years to come. And thus it is that 
this vast flood of life is carried on from age to age ; 
myriads trifling with God's love, tempting His jus- 
tice, and, like the herd of swine, falling headlong 
down the steep ! O mighty God ! O God of love ! 
it is too much ! it broke the heart of Thy sweet Son 
Jesus to see the* misery of man spread out before 



44 NEGLECT OF DIVINE CALLS AND WARNINGS. 

His eyes. He died by it as well as for it. And we 
too, in our measure, our eyes ache, and our hearts 
sicken, and our heads reel, when we but feebly con- 
template it. O most tender heart of Jesus, why wilt 
Thou not end, when wilt Thou end, this ever-growing 
load of sin and woe ? When wilt Thou chase away 
the devil into his own hell, and close the pit's mouth, 
that Thy chosen may rejoice in Thee, quitting the 
thought of those who perish in their wilfulness? 
But, oh ! by those five dear Wounds in Hands, and 
Feet, and Side — perpetual founts of mercy, from 
which the fulness of the Eternal Trinity flows ever 
fresh, ever powerful, ever bountiful to all who seek 
Thee — if the world must still endure, at least gather 
Thou a larger and a larger harvest, an ampler pro- 
portion of souls out of it into Thy garner, that these 
latter times may, in sanctity, and glory, and the 
triumphs of Thy grace, exceed the former. 

" Deus misereatur nostri, et benedicat nobis ;" 
" God, have mercy on us, and bless us ; and cause 
His face to shine upon us, and have mercy on us ; 
that we may know Thy way upon earth, Thy salva- 
tion among all the nations. Let the people praise 
Thee, O God ; let all the people praise Thee. Let 
the nations be glad, and leap for joy ; because Thou 
dost judge the people in equity, and dost direct the 
nations on the earth. God, even our God, bless us, 
God bless us ; and let all the ends of the earth fear 
Him." 



DISCOURSE III 



MEN, NOT ANGELS, THE PRIESTS OF THE GOSPEL. 



When Christ, the great Prophet, the great Preacher, 
the great Missionary, came into the world, He 
came in a way the most holy, the most august, 
and the most glorious. Though He came in humili- 
ation, though He came to suffer, though He was born 
in a stable, though He was laid in a manger, yet 
He issued from the womb of an Immaculate Mother, 
and His infant form shone with heavenly light. 
Sanctity marked every lineament of His character 
and every circumstance of His mission. Gabriel 
announced His incarnation ; a Virgin conceived, a 
Virgin bore, a Virgin suckled Him ; His foster- 
father was the pure and saintly Joseph ; Angels 
proclaimed His birth ; a luminous star spread the 
news among the heathen ; the austere Baptist went 
before His face ; and a crowd of shriven penitents, 
clad in white garments and radiant with grace, fol- 



46 



MEN, NOT ANGELS, 



[Disc. 



lowed Him wherever He went. x\s the sun in 
heaven shines through the clouds, and is reflected in 
the landscape, so the eternal Sun of justice, when 
He rose upon the earth, turned night into day. and 
in His brightness made all things bright. 

He came and He went ; and. seeing that He came 
to introduce a new and final dispensation into the 
world, He left behind Him preachers, teachers, 
and missionaries, in His stead. Well then, my 
brethren, you will say, since on His coming all about 
Him was so glorious, such as He was, such must 
His servants be, such His representatives, His minis- 
ters, in His absence ; as He was without sin, they 
too must be without sin ; as He was the Son of God, 
they must surely be Angels. Angels, you will say, 
must be appointed to this high office ; Angels alone 
are fit to preach the birth, the sufferings, the death 
of God. They might indeed have to hide their 
brightness, as He, their Lord and Master, had put 
on a disguise before them ; they might come, as 
under the Old Covenant, in the garb of men ; but 
still, men they could not be, if they were to be 
preachers of the everlasting Gospel, and dispensers 
of its mysteries. If they vs-ere to sacrifice, as He 
had sacrificed ; to continue, repeat, apply, the very 
Sacrifice which He had offered : to take into their 
hands the very Victim which was He Himself; to 
bind and to loose, to bless and to ban, to receive the 
confessions of His people, and to give them absolu- 
tion for their sins ; to teacli them the way of truth, 



III.] THE PRIESTS OF THE GOSPEL. 47 



and to guide them along the war of peace ; who was 
sufficient for these things but an inhabitant of those 
blessed realms of which the Lord is the never-failing 
Light ? 

And yet, my brethren, so it is, He has sent forth, 
for the ministry of reconciliation, not Angels, but 
men ; He has sent forth your brethren to you, not 
beings of some unknown nature and some strange 
blood, but of your own bone and your own flesh, to 
preach to you. " Ye men of Galilee, why stand ye 
gazing up into heaven?" Here is the royal style 
and tone in which Angels speak to men, even 
though these be Apostles ; it is the tone of those 
who having never sinned, speak from their lofty 
eminence to those who have. But such is not 
the tone of those whom Christ has sent ; for it 
is your brethren whom He has appointed, and 
none else, — sons of Adam, sons of your nature, 
the same by nature, differing only in grace, — 
men, like you, exposed to temptations, to the same 
temptations, to the same warfare within and 
without ; with the same three deadly enemies — 
the world, the flesh, and the devil ; with the same 
human, the same wayward heart : differing only as 
the power of God has changed and rules it. So 
it is ; we are not Angels from Heaven that speak 
to you, but men, whom grace, and grace alone, 
has made to differ from you. Listen to the 
Apostle : — When the barbarous Lycaonians, seeing 
his miracle, would have sacrificed to him and St. 



48 



MEN, NOT ANGELS, 



[Disc. 



Barnabas, as to gods, he rushed in among them, 
crying out, " O men, why do ye this ? we also are 
mortals, men like unto you;" or, as it is forcibly 
expressed in the Greek, " We are of like passions 
with you." And again to the Corinthians he writes, 
" We preach not ourselves, but Jesus Christ our 
Lord ; and ourselves your servants through Jesus. 
God, who commanded the light to shine out of 
darkness, He hath shined in our hearts, to give the 
light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the 
face of Christ Jesus : but we hold this treasure in 
earthen vessels." And further, he says of himself 
most wonderfully, that, " lest he should be exalted 
by the greatness of the revelations there was given 
him an angel of Satan in the flesh to buffet him." 
Such are your Ministers, your Preachers, your 
Priests, O my brethren; not Angels, not Saints, 
though not sinners, but those who would have been 
sinners except for God's grace, and who, though 
through God's mercy in training to be Saints here- 
after, yet at present are in the midst of infirmity 
and temptation, and have no hope, except from the 
unmerited grace of God, of persevering unto the 
end. 

What a strange, what a striking anomaly is this ! 
All is perfect, all is heavenly, all is glorious, in the 
dispensation which Christ has vouchsafed us, but 
the persons of His Ministers. He dwells on our 
altars Himself, the Most Holy, the Most High, in 
light inaccessible, and Angels fall down before Him 



III.] 



THE PRIESTS OF THE GOSPEL. 



49 



there ; and out of visible substances and forms He 
chooses what is purest to represent and to hold Him. 
The finest wheat flour, and the choicest wine, are 
taken as His outward symbols ; the most sacred and 
majestic words minister to the sacrificial rite ; altar 
and sanctuary are adorned decently or splendidly, as 
our means allow, and the Priests perform their office 
in befitting vestments, lifting up chaste hearts and 
holy hands ; yet those very Priests, so set apart, so 
consecrated, they, with their girdle of celibacy and 
their maniple of sorrow, are sons of Adam, sons of 
sinners, of a fallen nature, which they have not lost, 
though it be renewed through grace. So that it is 
almost the definition of a Priest that he has sins of his 
own to offer for. " Every high priest," says the Apostle, 
" taken from among men, is appointed for men, in 
the things that appertain unto God, that he may 
offer gifts and sacrifices for sins ; who can condole 
with those who are in ignorance and error, be- 
cause he also himself is compassed with infirmity. 
And therefore he ought, as for the people, so also 
for himself, to offer for sins." And hence in the 
Mass, when he offers up the Host before consecra- 
tion, he says, Suscipe, Sancte Pater, Omnipotens ceterne 
Deus, "Accept, Holy Father, Almighty and Eternal 
God, this immaculate Host, which I, Thine unworthy 
servant, offer to Thee, my Living and True God, for 
mine innumerable sins, offences, and negligences, and 
for all who stand around, and for all faithful 
Christians, living and dead." 

E 



50 



MEN, NOT ANGELS, 



[Disc. 



Most strange is this in itself, my brethren, but 
not strange, when you consider it is the appointment 
of an all-merciful God ; not strange in Him, because 
the Apostle gives the reason of it in the passage I 
have quoted. The Priests of the New Law are men, 
that they may " condole with those who are in 
ignorance and error, because they too are compassed 
with infirmity." Had Angels been your Priests, my 
brethren, they could not have condoled with you, 
sympathized with you, have had compassion on you, 
tenderly felt for you, and made allowances for you, 
as we can ; they could not have been your patterns 
and guides, and have led you on from your old 
selves into a new life, as they who come from the 
midst of you, who have been led on themselves as 
you are to be led, who can enter into your difficul- 
ties, who have had experience, at least of your 
temptations, if not of your sins, who know the 
strength of the flesh and the wiles of the devil, even 
though, unlike you, they have baffled them, who are 
disposed to take your part, and be indulgent towards 
you, and can advise you most practically, and warn 
you most seasonably and prudently. Therefore did 
He send you men to be ministers of reconciliation 
and intercession ; and He Himself, though He could 
not sin, yet, by becoming man, took on Him, as far as 
was possible to God, man's burden of infirmity and 
trial in His own person. He could not be a sinner, but 
He could be a man, and He took to Himself a man's 
heart that we might intrust our hearts to Him, and 



III.] THE PRIESTS OF THE GOSPEL. 51 

" was tempted in all things, for a pattern," or " after 
a similitude, yet without sin." 

Ponder this truth well, my brethren, and let it be 
your comfort. Among the Preachers, among the 
Priests of the Gospel, there have been Apostles, 
there have been Martyrs, there have been Doctors ; 
— Saints in plenty among them ; yet out of them 
all, high as has been their sanctity, varied their 
graces, awful their powers, there has not been one 
who did not begin with the old Adam ; not one of 
them who was not hewn out of the same rock as the 
most obdurate of reprobates ; not one of them who 
was not fashioned unto honour out of the same clay 
which has been the material of the most polluted and 
vile of sinners; not one who was not by nature 
brother of those poor souls who have now com- 
menced an eternal fellowship with the devil, and 
are burning in hell. Grace has vanquished nature ; 
that is the history of the Saints. Salutary thought 
for those who are tempted to pride themselves in 
what they do, and what they are ; wonderful news 
for those who sorrowfully recognize in their hearts 
the vast difference that exists between them and 
the Saints ; and joyful news, when men hate sin, 
and. wish to escape from its miserable yoke, yet are 
tempted to think it impossible ! 

Come, my brethren, let us look at this truth more 
narrowly, and lay it to heart. First consider, that, 
since Adam fell, none of his seed but has been con- 
ceived in sin ; none, save one. One exception there 

e 2 



52 



MEN, NOT ANGELS, 



[Disc. 



has been, — -who is that one ? not our Lord Jesus, for 
He was not conceived of man, but of the Holy 
Ghost; not our Lord, but I mean His Virgin 
Mother, who, though conceived and born of human 
parents, as others, yet was rescued by anticipation 
from the common condition of mankind, and never 
was partaker in fact of Adam's transgression. She 
was conceived in the way of nature, she was con- 
ceived as others are ; but grace interfered and was 
beforehand with sin ; it filled her soul from the first 
moment of her existence, so that the evil one 
breathed not on her, nor stained the work of God. 
Tota pulchra es, Maria ; et macula originalis non est 
in te. " Thou art all fair, O Mary, and the stain 
original is not in thee." But putting aside the Most 
Blessed Mother of God, every one else, the most 
glorious Saint, and the most black and odious of 
sinners, I mean, the soul which, in the event, became 
the most glorious, and the soul which became the most 
devilish, were both born in one and the same original 
sin, both were children of wrath, both were unable to 
attain heaven by their natural powers, both had the 
prospect of meriting for themselves hell. 

They were both born in sin ; they both lay in sin ; 
and the soul, which afterwards became a Saint, would 
have continued in sin, would have sinned wilfully, 
and would have been lost, but for the visitings of an 
unmerited supernatural influence upon it, which 
did for it what it could not do for itself. The 
poor infant, destined to be an heir of glory, lay 



III.] 



THE PRIESTS OF THE GOSPEL. 



53 



feeble, sickly, fretful, wayward, and miserable; the 
child of sorrow ; without hope, and without heavenly 
aid. So it lay for many a long and weary day ere it 
was born; and when at length it opened its eyes 
and saw the light, it shrunk back, and wept aloud 
that it has seen it. But God heard its cry from 
heaven in this valley of tears, and He began that 
course of mercies towards it which led it from earth 
to heaven. He sent His Priest to administer to it 
the first sacrament, and to baptize it with His grace. 
Then a great change took place in it, for, instead of 
its being any more the thrall of Satan, it forthwith 
became a child of God ; and had it died that minute, 
and before it came to the age of reason, it would have 
been carried to heaven without delay by Angels, and 
been admitted into the presence of God. 

But it did not die ; it came to the age of reason, 
and, O shall we dare to say, though in some blessed 
cases it may be said, shall we dare to say, that it did 
not misuse the great talent which had been given, pro- 
fane the grace which dwelt in it, and fall into mortal 
sin ? In some instances, praised be God ! we dare affirm 
it ; such seems to have been the case with my own 
dear Father, St. Philip, who surely kept his baptismal 
robe unsullied from the day he was clad in it, never 
lost his state of grace, from the day he was put into 
it, and proceeded from strength to strength, and from 
merit to merit, and from glory to glory, through the 
whole course of his long life, till at the age of eighty 
he was summoned to his account, and went joyfully 



54 



MEN, NOT ANGELS, 



[Disc. 



to it, and was carried across purgatory, without any 
scorching of its flames, straight to heaven. 

Such certainly have sometimes been the dealings 
of God's grace with the souls of His elect; but more 
commonly, as if more intimately to associate them 
with their brethren, and to make the fulness of His 
favours to them a ground of hope and an encourage- 
ment to the penitent sinner, those who have ended 
in being miracles of sanctity, and heroes in the 
Church, have passed a time in wilful sin, have 
thrown themselves out of the light of God's coun- 
tenance, have been led captive by this or that sin, and 
by this or that religious error, till at length they were 
in various ways recovered, slowly or suddenly, and 
regained the state of grace, or rather a much higher 
state, than that which they had forfeited. Such was the 
blessed Magdalen, who had lived a life of shame ; so 
much so, that even to be touched by her, was, accord- 
ing to the religious judgment of the day, a pollution. 
Happy in this world's goods, young and passionate, 
she had given her heart to the creature, before the 
grace of God prevailed with her. Then she cut off 
her long hair, and put aside her gay apparel, and 
became so utterly what she had not been, that, had 
you known her before and after, you had said it was 
two persons you had seen, not one ; for there was no 
trace of the sinner in the penitent, except the affec- 
tionate heart, now set on heaven and Christ ; no trace 
besides, no memory of that glittering and seductive 
vision, in the modest form, the serene countenance, 



III.] 



THE PRIESTS OF THE GOSPEL. 



55 



the composed gait, and the gentle voice of her who 
in the garden sought and found the Risen Saviour. 
Such too was he who from a publican became an 
Apostle and an Evangelist ; one who for filthy lucre 
scrupled not to enter the service of the heathen 
Romans and oppress his own people. Nor were the 
rest of the Apostles made of better clay than the other 
sons of Adam ; they were by nature animal, carnal, 
ignorant ; left to themselves, they would, like the 
brutes, have grovelled on the earth, and gazed upon 
the earth, and fed on the earth, had not the grace of 
God taken possession of them, and set them on their 
feet, and raised their faces heavenward. And such 
was the learned Pharisee, who came to Jesus by 
night, well satisfied with his station, jealous of his 
reputation, confident in his reason ; but the time at 
length came, when, even though disciples fled, he 
remained to anoint the abandoned corpse of Him, 
whom, when living, he had been ashamed to own. 
You see it was the grace of God that triumphed in 
Magdalen, in Matthew, and in Nicodemus ; heavenly 
grace came upon corrupt nature ; it subdued the 
flesh in the sinner, covetousness in the publican, 
fear of man in the Pharisee. 

Let me speak of another celebrated conquest of 
God's grace in an after-age, and you will see how it 
pleases Him to make a Confessor, a Saint, a Doctor 
of His Church, out of sin and heresy both together. 
It was not enough that the Father of the West- 
ern Schools, the author of a thousand works, the 



56 



MEN, NOT ANGELS, 



[Disc. 



triumphant controversialist, the especial champion of 
grace, should have been once a poor slave of the 
flesh, but he was the victim of a perverted intellect 
also. He, who of all others, was to extol the grace 
of God, was left more than others to experience the 
helplessness of nature. The great St. Augustine, 
(I am not speaking of the holy missionary of the 
same name, who came to England and converted 
our pagan forefathers, but of the great African 
Bishop,) Augustine, I say, not being in earnest 
about his soul, not asking himself the question, how 
was sin to be washed away, but rather being desirous, 
while youth and strength lasted, to enjoy the flesh 
and the world, ambitious and sensual, judged of 
truth and falsehood by his private judgment and his 
private fancy ; despised the Catholic Church because 
it spoke so much of faith and subjection, thought to 
make his own reason the measure of all things, and 
accordingly joined a far-spread sect, which affected 
to be philosophical and enlightened, to take large 
views of things, and to correct the vulgar, that is, 
the Catholic notions of God and Christ, of sin and 
of the way to heaven. In this sect of his he re- 
mained for some years ; yet what he was taught 
there did not satisfy him. It pleased him for a 
time, and then he found he had been eating for food 
what did not nourish ; he became hungry and thirsty 
after something more substantial, he knew not what, 
he despised himself for being a slave to the flesh ; 
he found his religion did not help him to overcome 



III.] 



THE PRIESTS OF THE GOSPEL. 



57 



it ; he understood he had not gained the truth, and 
he cried out, " O, who will tell me where to seek it, 
who will bring me to it?" 

Why did he not join the Catholic Church at 
once ? I have told you why ; he saw that truth was 
no where else, but he was not sure it was there. 
He thought there w T as something mean, narrow, 
irrational, in her system of doctrine ; he lacked the 
gift of faith. Then a great conflict began within 
him, — the conflict of nature with grace ; of nature 
and her children, the flesh and false reason, against 
conscience and the pleadings of the Divine Spirit, 
leading him to better things. Though he was in 
mortal sin and a state of perdition, yet God was 
visiting him, and giving him the first fruits of those 
influences which were in the event to bring him out 
of it. Time went on ; and looking at him, as his 
Guardian Angel might look at him, you would have 
said that, in spite of much perverseness, and many a 
successful struggle against his Almighty Adversary, in 
spite of his still being, as before, in a state of wrath, 
nevertheless grace was making way in his soul, — he 
was advancing towards the Church. He did not 
know it himself, he could not recognize it himself ; 
but an eager interest in him, and then a joy, was 
springing up in heaven among the Angels of God. 
At last he came within the range of a great Saint in 
a foreign country ; and, though he pretended not to 
acknowledge him, his attention was arrested by him, 
and he could not help coming to sacred places to look 



58 



MEN, NOT ANGELS, 



[Disc. 



at him again and again. He began to watch him 
and speculate about him, and wondered with himself 
whether he was happy. He found himself fre- 
quently in Church, listening to the holy preacher, 
and he once asked his advice how to find what he 
was seeking. And now a final conflict came on with 
the flesh ; it was hard, very hard to part with the 
indulgences of years, it was hard to part and never 
to meet again. O, sin was so sweet, how could he 
bid it farewell ? how could he tear himself away 
from its embrace, and betake himself to that lonely 
and dreary way which led heavenwards ? but God's 
grace was sweeter far, and it convinced him while it 
won him ; it convinced his reasou, and prevailed ; — 
and he who without it would have lived and died a 
child of Satan, became, under its wonder-working 
power, an oracle of sanctity and truth. 

And do you not think, my brethren, that he was 
better fitted than another to persuade his brethren 
as he had been persuaded, and to preach the holy 
doctrine which he had despised ? Not that sin is 
better than obedience, or the sinner than the just ; 
but that God in His mercy makes use of sin against 
itself, that it turns past sin into a present benefit, 
that, while He washes away its guilt, and subdues its 
power, He leaves it in the penitent in such sense as 
enables him, from the knowledge of its devices, to 
assault it more vigorously and strike it more truly, 
when it meets him in other men ; that, while He, by 
His omnipotent grace, can make the soul as clean as 



III.] 



THE PRIESTS OF THE GOSPEL. 



59 



if it had never sinned, He leaves it in possession of 
a tenderness and compassion for other sinners, an 
experience how to deal with them, greater than 
if it had never sinned ; and moreover that, in those 
rare and special instances, of one of which I have 
been speaking, He holds up to us, for our instruction 
and our comfort, what He can do, even for the most 
guilty, if they sincerely come to Him for a pardon 
and a cure. There is no limit to be put to the 
bounty and power of God's grace ; and to feel sorrow 
for our sins, and to supplicate His mercy, is a sort of 
present pledge to us in our hearts, that He will 
grant us the good gifts we are seeking. He can do 
what He will with the soul of man. He is infinitely 
more powerful than the foul spirit to whom the 
sinner has sold himself, and can cast him out. 
my dear brethren, though your conscience witnesses 
against you, He can disburden it ; whether you have 
sinned less, or whether you have sinned more, He 
can make you as clean in His sight and as ac- 
ceptable to Him, as if you had never gone from Him. 
Gradually will He destroy your sinful habits, and at 
once will He restore you to His favour. Such is 
the power of the Sacrament of Penance, that, be 
your load of guilt heavier, or be it lighter, it removes 
it, whatever it is. It is as easy to Him to wash out 
the many sins as the few. Do you recollect in the 
Old Testament the history of the cure of Naaman, 
the Syrian, by the prophet Eliseus \ He had that 



60 



MEN, NOT ANGELS, 



[Disc. 



dreadful incurable disease called the leprosy, which 
was a white crust upon the skin, making the whole 
person hideous, and typifying the hideousness of 
sin. The prophet bade him bathe in the river 
Jordan, and the disease disappeared ; " the flesh," 
says the inspired writer, " was restored to him as the 
flesh of a little child." Here then we have a repre- 
sentation not only of what sin is, but of what God's 
grace is. It can undo the past, it can realize the 
hopeless. No sinner, ever so odious, but may 
become a saint ; no saint, ever so exalted, but has 
been, or might have been, a sinner. Grace over- 
comes nature, and grace only overcomes it. Take 
that holy child, the blessed St. Agnes, who, at the 
age of thirteen, resolved to die rather than deny the 
faith, and stood enveloped in an atmosphere of 
purity, and diffused around her a heavenly influence, 
in the very home of evil spirits into which the 
heathen brought her ; or consider the angelical 
Aloysius, of whom it hardly is left upon record that 
he committed even a venial sin ; or St. Agatha, St. 
Juliana, St. Rose, St. Casimir, or St. Stanislas, to 
whom the very notion of any unbecoming imagina- 
tion had been as death ; well, there is not one of these 
seraphic souls, but, except for God's grace, might have 
been a degraded, loathsome leper, an outcast from 
his kind ; not one but might, or rather would, have 
lived the life of a brute creature, and died the death 
of a reprobate, and lain down in hell eternally in 



III.] 



THE PRIESTS OF THE GOSPEL. 



(51 



the devil's arms, had not God put a new heart and 
a new spirit within him, and made him what he 
could not make himself. 

All good men are not Saints, my brethren — all 
converted souls do not become Saints. I will not 
promise, that, if you turn to God, you will reach 
that height of sanctity which the Saints have 
reached : — true ; still I am showing you that the 
Saints are by nature no better than you ; that the 
conscientious and laborious Priests, who have the 
charge of the faithful, are by nature no better than 
those whom they have to convert, whom they have 
to reform. It is God's special mercy towards you 
that we by nature are no other than you ; it it His 
consideration and compassion for you, that He has 
made us, your brethren, His legates and ministers of 
reconciliation. 

This is what the world cannot understand ; not 
that it does not apprehend clearly enough that we 
are by nature of like passions with it ; but what it 
is so blind, so narrow-minded as not to comprehend, 
is, that, being so like itself by nature, we are so 
different by grace. Men of the world, my brethren, 
know the power of nature ; they know not, expe- 
rience not, believe not the power of God's grace; 
and since they are not themselves acquainted with 
any power that can overcome nature, they think 
that none exists, and therefore consistently, they 
believe that every one, Priest or not, remains to the 
end such as nature made him, and they will not 



62 



MEN, NOT ANGELS, 



[Disc. 



believe it possible that any one can lead a super- 
natural life. Now, not Priest only, but every one 
who is inhabited by God's grace, leads a super- 
natural life, more or less supernatural, according to 
his calling, and the measure of the gifts given him, 
and his faithfulness to them. This they know not, 
and admit not ; and when they hear of the life 
which a Priest must lead by his profession from 
youth to age, they will not credit that he is what he 
professes to be. They know nothing of the pro- 
tection of God, the merits of Christ, the intercession 
of Mary ; of the virtue of recurring prayers, of fre- 
quent confession, of daily Masses ; they are strangers 
to the transforming power of the Most Holy Sacra- 
ment, the Bread of Angels ; they do not contemplate 
the efficacy of salutary rules, of holy companions, of 
long-enduring habit, of ready spontaneous vigilance, 
of abhorrence of sin, and indignation at the tempter, 
to secure the soul from evil. They only know that 
when the tempter once has actually penetrated into 
the heart, he is irresistible; they only know that 
there is (so to speak) a necessity of sinning when the 
soul has exposed and surrendered itself to his malice. 
They only know that when God has abandoned 
it, and good Angels are withdrawn, and all safe- 
guards, and protections, and preventives are neg- 
lected, that then (which is their case), when the 
victory is all but gained already, it is sure to be 
gained altogether. They themselves have ever, in 
their best estate, been all but beaten by the Evil one 



III.] 



THE PRIESTS OF THE GOSPEL. 



63 



before they began to fight ; this is the only state 
they have experienced ; they know this, and they 
know nothing else. They have never stood on 
vantage ground ; they have never been within the 
walls of the strong city, about which the enemy 
prowls in vain, into which he cannot penetrate, and 
outside of which the faithful soul will be too wise 
to venture. They judge, I say, by their experience, 
and will not believe what they never knew. 

If there be those here present, my dear brethren, 
who will not believe that grace is effectual within 
the Church, because it does little outside of it, to 
them I do not speak : I speak to those who do not 
narrow their belief to their experience ; I speak to 
those who admit that grace can make human nature 
what it is not ; and such persons, I think, will feel 
it, not a cause of jealousy and suspicion, but a great 
gain, a great mercy, that those are sent to preach to 
them, to receive their confessions, and to advise 
them, who can sympathize with their sins, though 
they have not known them. Not a temptation, 
my brethren, can befal you but what befals all 
those who share your nature, though you have 
yielded to it, and they have not. They can under- 
stand you, they can anticipate you, they can inter- 
pret you, though they have not kept pace with you 
in your course. They will be tender to you, they 
will " instruct you in the spirit of meekness" as the 
Apostle says, " considering themselves lest they also 
be tempted." Come then unto us, all ye that 



64 



MEN, NOT ANGELS, 



[Disc. 



labour and are heavy laden, and ye shall find rest to 
your souls ; come unto us, who now stand to you in 
Christ's stead, and who speak in Christ's Name; for 
we too, like you, have been saved by Christ's all- 
saving blood. We too, like you, should be lost 
sinners, unless Christ had had mercy on us, unless 
His grace had cleansed us, unless His Church had 
received us, unless His Saints had interceded for us. 
Be ye saved as we have been saved ; " come, listen, 
all ye that fear God, and we will tell you what He 
hath done for our soul." Listen to our testimony ; 
behold our joy of heart, and increase it by partaking 
in it yourselves. Choose that good part which we 
have chosen ; join ye yourselves to our company ; it 
will never repent you, take our word for it, who 
have a right to speak, it will never repent you to 
have sought pardon and peace from the Catholic 
Church, which alone has grace, which alone has 
power, which alone has Saints ; it will never repent 
you, though you go through trouble, though you 
have to give up much, for her sake. It will never 
repent you, to have passed from the shadows of 
sense and time, and the deceptions of human feeling 
and false reason, to the glorious liberty of the sons 
of God. 

And 0, my brethren, when you have taken the 
great step, and stand in your blessed lot, as sinners 
reconciled to the Father you had offended, (for I will 
anticipate, what I surely trust will be as regards 
many of you,) then forget not those who have 



III.] 



THE PRIESTS OF THE GOSPEL. 



65 



been the ministers of your reconciliation ; and as 
they now pray you to make your peace with God, so 
do you, when reconciled, pray for them, that they 
may gain the great gift of perseverance, that they 
may continue to stand in the grace in which they 
stand now, even till the hour of death, lest, per- 
chance, after they have preached to others, they 
themselves become reprobate. 



F 



DISCOURSE IV 



PURITY AND LOVE. 



There are two especial manifestations under which 
divine grace is vouchsafed to us, whether in Scrip- 
ture or in the history of the Church; whether in 
Saints, or in persons of holy and religious life ; the 
two are even found among our Lord's Apostles, 
being represented by the two foremost of that 
favoured company, St. Peter and St. John. St. 
John is the Saint of purity, and St. Peter is the 
Saint of love. Not that love and purity can ever 
be separated ; not as if a Saint had not all virtues 
in him at once ; not as if St. Peter were not pure 
as well as loving, and St. John loving, for all he was 
so pure. The graces of the Spirit cannot be sepa- 
rated from each other ; one implies the rest ; what is 
love but a delight in God, a devotion to Him, a sur- 
render of the whole self to Him ? what is impurity, 
on the other hand, but the taking something of this 



PURITY AND LOVE. 



67 



world, something sinful, for the object of our affec- 
tions, instead of God? what is it but a deliberate 
turning away from the Creator to the creature, and 
seeking pleasure in the shadow of death, not in the 
all-blissful Presence of light and holiness ? The im- 
pure then do not love God ; and those who are with- 
out love of God cannot really be pure ; in some 
object we must fix our affections, we must find plea- 
sure ; and we cannot find pleasure in two objects, as 
we cannot serve two masters, which are contrary to 
each other. Much less can a Saint be deficient 
either in purity or in love, for the flame of love will 
not be bright unless the substance which feeds it be 
pure and unadulterate. 

Yet, certain as this is, it is certain also that the spi- 
ritual works of God show differently from each other 
to our eyes, and that they display, in their character 
and their history, some this virtue more than others, 
and some that. In other words, it pleases the Giver of 
grace to endue them specially with certain gifts, for 
His glory, which light up and beautify one particular 
portion or department of their soul, so as to cast 
their other excellencies into the shade. And then 
this grace becomes their characteristic, and we put 
it first in our thoughts of them, and consider what 
they have besides as included in it, or dependent 
upon it, and speak of them as if they had not the 
rest, though they really have them; and we give 
them some title or description taken from that par- 
ticular grace which is so emphatically theirs. And 

f 2 



68 



PURITY AND LOVE. 



[Disc. 



in this way we may speak, as I intend to do in what I 
am going to say, of two chief classes of Saints, whose 
emblems are the lily and the rose, who are bright 
with angelic purity, or who burn with divine love. 

The two St. Johns are the great instances of the 
Angelic life. Whom, my brethren, can we conceive 
of such majestic and severe sanctity as the holy 
Baptist? He had a privilege which reached near 
upon the prerogative of the Most Blessed Mother 
of God ; for, if she was conceived without sin, he 
at least without sin was born. She was all-pure, 
all-holy, and sin had no part in her ; but St. John 
was in the first days of his existence a partaker 
of Adam's curse : he lay under God's wrath, de- 
prived of that grace which Adam had received, and 
which is the perfection of human nature. Yet as 
soon as Christ, his Lord and Saviour, came in the 
flesh, and Mary saluted his own mother, Elizabeth, 
forthwith the grace of God was given to him, and 
the original guilt was wiped away from his soul. 
And therefore it is that we celebrate the nativity 
of St. John ; nothing unholy does the Church cele- 
brate ; not St. Peter's nativity, nor St. Paul's, nor 
St. Augustine's, nor St. Gregory's, nor St. Bernard's, 
nor St. Aloysius's ; nor any other Saint, however 
glorious, because they were born in sin. She cele- 
brates their conversion, their privileges, their mar- 
tyrdom, their death, their translation, but not their 
birth, because in no case was it holy. Three nativi- 
ties alone does she commemorate, our Lord's, His 



IV.] 



PURITY AND LOVE. 



69 



Mother's, and lastly St. John's. What a special gift 
was this, my brethren, separating the Baptist off, 
and distinguishing him above all prophets and 
preachers, who ever lived, however holy, except per- 
haps the prophet Jeremias ! And such as was his 
commencement, was the course of his life. He was 
carried away by the Spirit into the desert, and there 
he lived on the simplest fare, in the rudest cloth- 
ing, in the cave of wild beasts, apart from men, 
for thirty years, leading a life of mortification and 
of meditation, till called to preach penance, to pro- 
claim the Christ, and to baptize Him ; and then 
having done his work, and having left no sin on 
record, he was laid aside as an instrument which 
had lost its use, and languished in prison, till he was 
suddenly cut off by the sword of the executioner. 
Sanctity is the one idea of him impressed upon us 
from first to last ; a most marvellous Saint, a hermit 
from his childhood, then a preacher to a fallen peo- 
ple, and then a Martyr. Surely such a life fulfils 
the expectation, which the voice of Mary raised con- 
cerning him before his birth. 

Yet still more beautiful, and almost as majestic, 
is the image of his namesake, that great Apostle, 
evangelist, and prophet of the Church, who came so 
early into our Lord's chosen company, and lived so 
long after all his fellows. We can contemplate him 
in his youth and in his venerable age ; and on his 
whole life, from first to last, as his special gift, is 
marked purity. He is the virgin Apostle, who on 



TO 



PURITY AND LOVE. 



[Disc. 



that account was so dear to his Lord, " the disciple 
whom Jesus loved," who lay on His Bosom, who 
received His Mother from Him when on the Cross, 
who had the vision of all the wonders which were 
to come in the world to the end of time. " Greatly 
to be honoured," says the Church, " is blessed John, 
who on the Lord's Breast lay at supper, to whom a 
virgin did Christ on the Cross commit His Virgin 
Mother. He was chosen a virgin by the Lord, and 
was more beloved than the rest. The special prero- 
gative of chastity had made him meet for larger 
love, because, being chosen by the Lord a virgin, a 
virgin he remained through life." He it was who 
in his youth professed his readiness to drink Christ's 
chalice with Him, who wore away a long life as a 
desolate stranger in a foreign land, who was at length 
carried to Rome and plunged into the hot oil, and 
then was banished to a far island, till his days drew 
near their close. 

O how impossible is it worthily to conceive the 
sanctity of these two great servants of God, so dif- 
ferent is the whole history, in their lives and in 
their deaths, yet agreeing together in their seclusion 
from the world, in their tranquillity, and in their 
all but sinlessness ! Mortal sin had never touched 
them ; and we may well believe that even from de- 
liberate venial sin they were exempt ; nay, at par- 
ticular seasons or on certain occasions, perhaps, they 
did not sin at all. The rebellion of the reason, the 
waywardness of the feelings, the disorder of the 



IV.] 



PURITY AND LOVE. 



71 



thoughts, the fever of passion, the treachery of the 
senses, these did the all-powerful grace of God sub- 
due. They lived in a world of their own, uniform, 
serene, abiding; in visions of peace, in communion 
with Heaven, in anticipation of glory ; and, if they 
spoke to the world without, as preachers or as con- 
fessors, they spoke as from some sacred shrine, not 
mixing with it while they addressed it, as " a voice 
crying in the wilderness," or " in the Spirit on the 
Lord's Day." And therefore it is we speak of them 
rather as patterns of sanctity than of love, because 
love regards an external object, runs towards it and 
labours for it, whereas such as they came so close to 
the Object of their love, they were allowed so to re- 
ceive Him into their breasts, and so to make them- 
selves one with Him, that their hearts did not so 
much love heaven as were a heaven, did not so much 
see light as were light, and they lived among men as 
those Angels in the old time, who came to the pa- 
triarchs and spake as though they were God, for 
God was in them, and spake by them. Thus these 
two were almost absorbed in the Godhead, living 
an angelical life, as far as man could lead one, so 
calm, so still, so raised above sorrow and fear, disap- 
pointment and regret, desire and aversion, as to be 
the most perfect image, that earth has seen, of the 
peace and immutability of God. Such are the many 
virgin Saints whom history records for our veneration, 
St. J oseph, the great St. Antony, St. Cecilia who was 
waited on by Angels, St. Nicolas of Bari, St. Peter 



72 



PURITY AND LOVE. 



[Disc. 



Celestine, St. Rose of Viterbo, St. Catherine of Sienna, 
and a host of others, and, above all, of the Virgin of 
Virgins and Queen of Virgins, the Blessed Mary, 
■who, though replete and overflowing with the grace 
of love, yet for the very reason that she was the 
- seat of wisdom," and the " ark of the covenant," 
is more commonly represented under the emblem of 
the lily, than of the rose. 

But now, my brethren, let us turn to the other 
class of Saints. I have been speaking of those who 
in a wonderful, sometimes in a miraculous way, have 
been defended from sin, and conducted from strength 
to strength, from youth till death ; but now let as 
suppose that God has willed to shed the light and 
power of His Spirit upon those who have misused 
the aids, and quenched the grace already given them, 
and who therefore have a host of evils within them 
of which they are to be dispossessed, who are under 
the dominion of obstinate habits, indulged passions, 
false opinions ; who have served Satan, not as in- 
fants before their baptism, but with their will, with 
their reason, with their faculties responsible, and 
hearts alive and conscious. Is He to draw these 
elect souls to Him without themselves, or by means 
of themselves ? Is He to change them at His word, 
as He created them, as He will make them die, as 
He will raise them from the grave, or is He to enter 
into their souls, to address Himself to them, to per- 
suade them, and so to win them? Doubtless He 
might have been urgent with them, and masterful ; 



IV.] 



PURITY AND LOVE. 



73 



He might by a blessed violence have come upon 
them, and turned them into Saints ; He might have 
superseded any process of conversion, and out of the 
very stones have raised up children to Abraham. 
But He has willed otherwise; else why did He 
manifest Himself on earth \ Why did He surround 
Himself on His coming with so much that was 
touching and attractive and subduing? Why did 
He bid His Angels proclaim that He was to be 
seen as a little infant in a manger, or in a Virgin's 
bosom, at Bethlehem ? Why did He go about doing 
good ? Why did He die in public, before the world, 
with His Mother and His beloved disciple by Him ? 
Why does He now tell us how He is exalted in 
Heaven with a host of glorified Saints, who are our 
intercessors, about His throne ? Why does He come 
to us in Mary and through Mary, the most perfect 
image after Himself of what is beautiful and tender, 
and gentle and soothing in human nature \ Why 
does He manifest Himself by an ineffable con- 
descension on our Altars, still humbling Himself, 
though He reigns on high ? What does all this 
show, but that, when souls wander away from Him, 
He reclaims them by means of themselves, "by 
cords of Adam," or of human nature, as the prophet 
speaks, conquering us indeed at His will, saving us 
in spite of ourselves, and yet by ourselves, so that 
the very reason and affections of the old Adam, 
which have been made " the arms of wickedness 



74 



PURITY AND LOVE. 



[Disc. 



unto sin," should, under the power of His grace, 
become "the arms of justice unto God?" 

Yes, doubtless He draws us " by cords of Adam," 
and what are those cords, but, as the prophet speaks 
in the same verse, " the cords," or " the twine of 
love ?" It is the manifestation of the glory of 
God in the Face of Jesus Christ ; it is the view of 
the attributes and perfections of Almighty God ; 
it is the beauty of His sanctity, the sweetness of 
His mercy, the brightness of His Heaven, the ma- 
jesty of His law, the harmony of His providences, 
the thrilling music of His voice, which is the an- 
tagonist of the flesh, and the soul's champion against 
the world and the devil. " Thou hast seduced me, 
O Lord," says the prophet, " and I was seduced ; 
Thou art stronger than I, and hast prevailed f Thou 
hast thrown Thy net skilfully, and its subtle threads 
are entwined round each affection of the heart, and 
its meshes have been a power of God, " bringing into 
captivity the whole intellect to the service of Christ." 
If the world has its fascinations, so surely has the 
Altar of the living God ; if its pomps and vanities 
dazzle, so much more should the vision of Angels 
ascending and descending on the heavenly ladder: 
if sight of earth intoxicate, and its chants are a spell 
upon the soul, behold Mary pleads with us, over 
against them, with her chaste eyes, and offers the 
Eternal Child for our caress, while sounds of cheru- 
bim are heard all round singing in the blessedness 



IV.] 



PURITY AND LOVE. 



75 



which they find in Him. Has divine hope no 
emotion 1 Has divine charity no transport ? " How 
dear are thy tabernacles, O Lord of hosts !" says 
the prophet ; " my soul doth lust, and doth faint 
for the courts of the Lord ; my heart and my flesh 
have rejoiced in the living God. Better is one day 
in Thy courts above a thousand : I have chosen to 
be an abject in the house of my God, rather than to 
dwell in the tabernacles of sinners." So is it, as a 
great Doctor and penitent has said, St. Augustine ; 
" It is not enough to be drawn by the will ; thou art 
also drawn by the sense of pleasure. What is it to 
be drawn by pleasure ? 4 Delight thou in the Lord, 
and He will give thee the petitions of thy heart.' 
There is a certain pleasure of heart, to which that 
heavenly Bread is sweet. Moreover, if the poet 
saith, 6 Every one is drawn by his own pleasure,' not 
by necessity, but by pleasure ; not by obligation, but 
by delight ; how much more boldly ought we to say, 
that man is drawn to Christ, when he is delighted 
with truth, delighted with bliss, delighted with 
justice, delighted with eternal life, all which is 
Christ ? Have the bodily senses their pleasures, and 
is the mind without its own? If so, whence is it 
said, - The sons of men shall hope under the covering 
of Thy wings; they shall be intoxicate with the 
richness of Thy house, and with the torrent of Thy 
pleasure shalt Thou give them to drink : for with 
Thee is the well of life, and in Thy light we 
shall see light?' ■ He, whom the Father draweth, 



76 



PURITY AND LOVE. 



[Disc. 



cometh to Me.' Whom hath the Father drawn? 
him who said, ' Thou art Christ, the Son of the 
living God.' You present a green branch to the 
sheep, and you draw it forward ; fruits are offered 
to the child, and he is drawn ; he is drawn who 
runs, he is drawn by loving, drawn without bodily 
hurt, drawn by the bond of the heart. If then it be 
true that the sight of earthly delight draws on the 
lover, doth not Christ too draw us when revealed by 
-the Father? For what doth the soul desire more 
strongly than Truth?" 

Such are the means which God has provided for 
the creation of the Saint out of the sinner: He 
takes him as he is, and uses him against himself : He 
turns his affections into another channel, and defeats 
a carnal love by inspiring a heavenly charity. Not 
as if He used him as a mere irrational creature, who 
is impelled by instincts and governed by external 
incitements without any will of his own, and to 
whom one pleasure is the same as another, the same 
in kind, though different in degree. I have already 
said, it is the glory of His grace, that He enters into 
the heart of man, and persuades it, and prevails with 
it, while He changes it. He violates in nothing 
that original constitution which He gave him ; 
He treats him as man ; He leaves him the power of 
acting this way or that ; He appeals to all his 
powers and faculties, to his reason, to his prudence, 
to his moral sense; He rouses his fears as well as 
his love ; He enlightens him in the depravity of sin, 



IV.] 



PURITY AND LOVE. 



77 



as well as in the mercy of God ; but still, on the 
whole, the animating principle of the new life, by 
which it is both kindled and sustained, is the flame 
of charity. This only is strong enough to destroy 
the old Adam, to dissolve the tyranny of habits, and 
to waste the fires of concupiscence, and to burn up 
the strong holds of pride. 

And hence it is that love appears to us as the 
distinguishing grace of those who were sinners before 
they were Saints ; not that love is not the life of all 
Saints, of those who have never needed a conversion, 
of the Most Blessed Virgin, of the two St. Johns, 
and of those others, many in number, who are " first- 
fruits unto God and the Lamb ;" but that, while 
in those who have never sinned it is so contem- 
plative as almost to resolve itself into the sanctity of 
God Himself, in those in whom it dwells as a prin- 
ciple of recovery, it is so full of devotion, of zeal, of 
activity, and good works, that it gives a visible 
character to their history, and is ever associating 
itself with one's thoughts of them. 

Such was the great Apostle, on whom the Church 
is built, and whom I contrasted, when I began, with 
his fellow-Apostle St. John : whether we contemplate 
him after his first calling, or on his repentance, he, out 
of all the Apostles, who denied his Lord, is the most 
conspicuous for his love of Him. It was for this 
love of Christ, flowing on, as it did, from its im- 
petuosity and exuberance, into love of the brethren, 
that he was chosen to be the chief Pastor of the 



78 



PURITY AND LOVE. 



[Disc. 



fold. " Simon, son of John, lovest thou Me more 
than these?" was the trial put on him by his 
Lord ; and the reward was, " Feed My lambs, feed 
My sheep." Wonderful to say, the Apostle whom 
Jesus loved, was yet surpassed in love for Jesus by 
a brother not virginal as he ; for it is not John of 
whom our Lord asked this question, and gained this 
reply, but Peter. 

Look back at an earlier passage of the same nar- 
rative : there too the two Apostles are similarly 
contrasted in their respective characters ; for when 
they were in the boat, and their Lord spoke to them 
from the shore, and "they knew not that it was 
Jesus," first, " that disciple, whom Jesus loved, said 
to Peter, It is the Lord ;" and then at once " Simon 
Peter girt his tunic about him, and cast himself into 
the sea," to reach Him the quicker. St. John be- 
holds, and St. Peter acts. 

Thus the very sight of Jesus kindled Peter's heart, 
and at once drew him to Him ; also, on a former time, 
when he saw his Lord walking on the sea, his first 
impulse was, as afterwards, to leave the vessel and 
hasten to His side : " Lord, if it be Thou, bid me 
come to Thee upon the waters." And when he had 
been betrayed into his great sin, the very Eye of 
Jesus brought him to himself: "And the Lord 
turned and looked upon Peter ; and Peter remem- 
bered the word of the Lord, and he went out, 
and wept bitterly." Hence, on another occasion, 
when many of the disciples fell away, and "Jesus 



IV.] 



PURITY AND LOVE. 



79 



said to the twelve, Do ye too wish to go away?" 
St. Peter answered, " Lord, to whom shall we go ? 
Thou hast the words of eternal life ; and we have 
believed and have known that Thou art Christ, the 
Son of God." 

Such, too, was that other great Apostle, who, in 
so many ways, is associated with St. Peter, the 
Doctor of the Gentiles. He was converted mira- 
culously, by our Lord's appearing to him, when he 
was on his way to carry death to the Christians of 
Damascus : and how does he speak ? " Whether we 
are beside ourselves," he says, " it is to God ; or 
whether we be sober, it is for you : for the charity 
of Christ doth urge us. If, therefore, there be any 
new creature in Christ, old things have passed away, 
behold, all things are made new." And so again : 
" with Christ am I nailed to the cross ; but I live, 
yet no longer I, but Christ liveth in me ; and, that I 
now live in the flesh, I live by the faith of the Son 
of God, who loved me, and gave Himself for me." 
And again : " I am the least of the Apostles, who am 
not worthy to be called an Apostle, because I perse- 
cuted the Church of God. # But by the grace of God 
I am what I am ; and His grace in me hath not been 
void, but I laboured more abundantly than they all, 
yet not I, but the grace of God with me." And, 
once more : " Whether we live, unto the Lord we 
live ; whether we die, unto the Lord we die ; whether 
we live, or whether we die, we are the Lord's." You 
see, my brethren, the character of St. Paul's love ; it 



80 



PURITY AND LOVE. 



[Disc. 



was a love fervent, eager, energetic, active, full of 
great works, " strong as death," as the Wise Man 
says, a flame which " many waters could not quench, 
nor the streams drown," which lasted to the end, 
when he could say, " I have fought the good fight, I 
have finished the course, I have kept the faith ; 
henceforth is laid up for me the crown of justice, 
which the Lord will render to me at that day, the 
just Judge." 

And there is a third, my brethren, there is an 
illustrious third in Scripture, whom we must asso- 
ciate with these two great Apostles, when we speak 
of the Saints of penance and love. Who is it but 
the loving Magdalen ? Who is it so fully instances 
what I am showing, as " the woman who was a 
sinner," who watered the Lord's feet with her tears, 
and dried them with her hair, and anointed them 
with the precious ointment? What a time for such 
an act ! She, who had come into the room as if for 
a festive purpose, to go about an act of penance ! 
It was a formal banquet, given by a rich Pharisee, to 
honour, yet to try, our Lord. Magdalen came, 
young and beautiful, and " rejoicing in her youth," 
" walking in the ways of her heart and the gaze of 
her eyes :" she came as if to honour that feast, as 
women were wont to honour such, with her sweet 
odours and cool unguents for the forehead and hair 
of the guests. And he, the proud Pharisee, suffered 
her to come, so that she touched not him; let her 
come, as we might suffer inferior animals to enter 



IV.] 



PURITY AND LOVE. 



81 



our apartments, without caring for them ; suffered 
her as a necessary embellishment of the entertain- 
ment, yet as having no soul, or as destined to per- 
dition, but as nothing to him. He, proud being, and 
his brethren, might "compass sea and land to make 
one proselyte," but, as to looking into that pro- 
selyte's heart, pitying its sin, trying to heal it, this 
did not enter into the circuit of his thoughts. No, 
he thought only of the necessities of his banquet, 
and let her come, to do her part, careless what her 
life was, so that she did that part well, and con- 
fined herself to it. But, lo, a wondrous sight ! was 
it a sudden inspiration, or a mature resolve ? — but 
behold, that poor, many-coloured, child of guilt 
approaches to crown with her sweet ointment the 
head of Him to whom the feast was given ; and 
see, she has stayed her hand. She has looked, and 
she discerns the Immaculate, the Virgin's Son, " the 
brightness of the Eternal Light, and the spotless 
mirror of God's Majesty." She looks, and she 
recognizes the Ancient of Days, the Lord of life and 
death, her Judge ; and again she looks, and she sees 
in His face and in His mien a beauty, and a sweet- 
ness, awful, serene, majestic, more than that of the 
sons of men, which paled all the splendour of that 
festive room. Again she looks, timidly yet eagerly, 
and she discerns in His eye, and in His smile the 
loving-kindness, the tenderness, the compassion, the 
mercy of the Saviour of man. She looks at herself, 
and oh ! how vile, how hideous is she, who but now 



82 



PURITY AND LOVE. 



[Disc. 



was so vain of her attractions ! — how withered is 
that comeliness, of which the praises ran through the 
mouths of her admirers ! — how loathsome has become 
the breath, which hitherto she thought so fragrant, 
savouring only of those seven bad spirits which dwell 
within her ! And there she would have stayed, 
there she would have sunk on the earth, wrapped in 
her confusion and in her despair, had she not cast 
one glance again on that all-loving, all-forgiving 
Countenance. He is looking at her : it is the Shep- 
herd looking at the lost sheep, and the lost sheep 
surrenders herself to Him. He speaks not, but He 
eyes her; and she draws nearer to Him. Rejoice, ye 
Angels, she draws near, seeing nothing but Him, 
and caring neither for the scorn of the proud, nor the 
jests of the profligate. She draws near, not know- 
ing whether she shall be saved or not, not knowing 
whether she shall be received, or what will become 
of her ; this only knowing that He is the Fount of 
good and of truth, as of mercy, and to whom should 
she go, but to Him, who hath the words of eternal 
life ? " Destruction is thine, Israel ; in Me only 
is thy help. Eeturn unto Me, and I will not turn 
away My face from thee : for I am holy, and will 
not be angry for ever." " Behold we come unto 
Thee ; for Thou art the Lord our God. Truly the 
hills are false, and the multitude of the mountains : 
truly the Lord our God is the salvation of Israel. 5 ' 
Wonderful meeting between what was most base 
and what is most pure ! Those wanton hands, 



IV.] 



PURITY AND LOVE. 



83 



those polluted lips, have touched, have kissed the 
feet of the Eternal, and He shrank not from the 
homage. And as she hung over them, and as she 
moistened them from her full eyes, how did her 
love for One so great, yet so gentle, vrax vehement 
within her, lighting up a flame which never was to 
die from that moment even for ever ! and what 
excess did it reach, when He recorded before all 
men her forgiveness, and the cause of it ! " Many 
sins are forgiven her, for she loved much ; but to 
whom less is forgiven, the same loveth less. And 
He said unto her, Thy sins are forgiven thee ; thy 
faith hath made thee safe, go in peace." 

Henceforth, my brethren, love was to her, as to 
St. Augustine and to St. Ignatius afterwards, (great 
penitents in their own time,) as a wound in the soul, 
so full of desire as to be anguish. She could not 
live out of the presence of Him in whom her joy 
lay : her spirit languished after Him, when she saw 
Him not ; and waited on Him silently, reverently, 
wistfully, when she was in His blissful Presence. 
We read of her, on one occasion, sitting behind His 
feet, and listening to His words ; and He testified to 
her that she had chosen that best part which should 
not be taken away from her. And, after His 
resurrection, she, by her perseverance, merited to 
see Him even before the Apostles. She would not 
leave the sepulchre, when Peter and John retired, 
but stood without weeping; and when the Lord 
appeared to her, and held her eyes that she should 

g2 



84 



PURITY AND LOVE. 



[Disc. 



not know Him, she said piteously to the supposed 
keeper of the garden, " Tell me where thou hast laid 
Him, and I will take Him away." And when at 
length He made Himself known to her, she turned 
herself, and was rushing to embrace His feet, as at 
the beginning, when, as if to prove the dutiful ness 
of her love, He forbade her : " Touch Me not," He 
said, " for I have not yet ascended to My Father ; 
but go to My brethren, and say to them, I ascend to 
My Father and your Father, to My God and your 
God." And so she was left to long for the time 
when she should see Him, and hear His voice, and 
enjoy His smile, and be allowed to minister to Him, 
for ever. 

Such then is the second great class of Saints, as 
viewed in contrast with the first. Love is the life of 
both : but while the love of the innocent is calm 
and serene, the love of the penitent is ardent and 
impetuous, commonly engaged in contest with the 
world, and active in good works. And this is the 
love which you, my brethren, must have in your 
measure, if you would have a good hope of salva- 
tion. For you were once sinners ; either by open 
and avowed contempt of religion, or by secret trans- 
gression, or by indifference, or by some indulged 
bad habit, or by setting your heart on some object 
of this world, and doing your own will instead of 
God's, I think I may say, you have needed, or now 
need, a reconciliation to Him. You have needed, 
or you need, to be brought near to Him, and to 



IV.] 



PURITY AND LOVE. 



85 



have your sins washed away in His blood, and your 
pardon recorded in Heaven. And what will do this 
for you, but contrition ? and what is contrition with- 
out love ? I do not say that you must have the 
love which Saints have, in order to your forgiveness, 
the love of St. Peter or of St. Mary Magdalen ; but 
still without your portion of that same heavenly grace, 
you are in a very precarious, a very unsafe condition. 
If you would do works meet for penance, they must 
proceed from a living flame of charity. If you 
would secure perseverance to the end, you must 
gain it by continual loving prayer to the Author and 
Finisher of faith and obedience. If you would have 
a good prospect of His acceptance of you in your 
last moments, still it is love alone which blots out 
sin. My brethren, at that awful hour you may be 
unable to obtain the last Sacraments ; death may 
come on you suddenly, or you may be at a distance 
from a Priest. You may be thrown on yourselves, 
simply on your own compunction, your own repent- 
ance, your own resolutions of amendment. You 
may have been weeks and weeks at a distance from 
spiritual aid ; you may have to meet your God with- 
out the safeguard, the compensation, the mediation 
of any holy rite ; and oh ! what will save you then, 
but the presence of " divine charity poured over the 
heart by the Holy Ghost which is given us ? " At 
that hour nothing but a firm habit of charity, which 
has kept you from mortal sins, or a powerful act of 
charity which blots them out, will aught avail you. 



86 



PURITY AND LOVE. 



[Disc. 



Nothing but charity can enable you to live well or to 
die well. How can you bear to lie down at night, how 
can you bear to go a journey, how can you bear the 
presence of pestilence, or the attack of ever so slight 
an indisposition, if you are ill provided in yourselves 
with love against that awful change, which will 
come on you some day, yet when and how you 
know not ? Alas ! how will you present yourselves 
before the judgment-seat of Christ, with the imper- 
fect mixed feelings which now satisfy you, with a 
certain amount of faith, and trust, and fear of God's 
judgments, but with nothing of that real delight in 
Him, in His attributes, in His will, in His command- 
ments, in His service, which Saints possess in such 
fulness, and which alone can give the soul a com- 
fortable title to the merits of His death and 
passion \ 

How different is the feeling with which the loving 
soul, on its separation from the body, approaches the 
presence of its Redeemer ! It knows how great a 
debt of punishment remains upon it, though it has 
for many years been reconciled to Him ; it knows 
that purgatory lies before it, and that the best it can 
reasonably hope for is to be sent there. But to see 
His face though for a moment ! to hear His voice, 
to hear Him speak, though it be to punish ! O 
Saviour of men, I come to Thee, though it be to be 
at once remanded from Thee ; I come to Thee who 
art my Life and my All ; I come to Thee on the 
thought of whom I have lived all my life long. To 



IV.] PURITY AND LOVE. 87 

Thee I gave myself when first I had to take a part 
in the world ; I sought Thee for my good early, for 
early didst Thou teaeh me that good elsewhere 
there was none. Whom have I in heaven but 
Thee ? whom have I desired on earth, whom have I 
had on earth, but Thee ? whom shall I have in the 
sharp flame but Thee ? Yea, though I be now 
descending thither, into "a land desert, pathless, 
and without water," I will fear no ill, for Thou art 
with me. I have seen Thee this day face to face, 
and it sufflceth ; I have seen Thee, and that glance 
of Thine is sufficient for a century of sorrow, in the 
nether earth. I will live on that look of Thine, 
though I see Thee not, till I see Thee again, never 
to part from Thee. That eye of Thine shall be sun- 
shine and comfort to my weary, longing soul ; that 
voice of Thine shall be everlasting music in my ears. 
Nothing can harm me, nothing shall discompose 
me ; I will bear the appointed years, till my end 
come, bravely and sweetly. I will raise my voice 
and chant a perpetual Confiteor to Thee and to Thy 
Saints in that dreary valley; to God omnipotent, 
and to Blessed Mary Ever Virgin, Thy Mother and 
mine, immaculate in her conception, and to blessed 
Michael Archangel, created in his purity by the 
very Hand of God, and to Blessed John Baptist, 
sanctified even in his mother's womb ; and after 
these three, to the Holy Apostles Peter and Paul, 
penitents, who compassionate the sinner from their 
experience of sin ; to all Saints, whether they have 



88 



PURITY AND LOVE. 



lived in contemplation or in toil, during the days of 
their pilgrimage, I will address my supplication, 
begging them to "remember me, since it is well 
with them, and to do mercy by me, so as to make 
mention of me unto the King that He bring me out 
of that prison." Then at length " God shall wipe 
away every tear from my eyes, and death shall be no 
longer, nor mourning, nor crying, nor pain any more, 
for the former things are passed away." 



DISCOURSE V. 



SAINTLINESS THE STANDARD OF CHRISTIAN 
PRINCIPLE. 



You know very well, my brethren, and there are 
few persons any where who deny it, that in the breast 
of every one there dwells a feeling or perception, 
which tells him the difference between right and 
wrong, and is the standard by which to measure 
thoughts and actions. It is called conscience ; and 
even though it be not at all times powerful enough 
to rule us, still it is distinct and decisive enough to 
influence our views and form our judgments in the 
various matters which come before us. Yet even 
this office it cannot perform adequately without 
external assistance ; it needs to be regulated and 
sustained. Left to itself, though it tells truly at 
first, it soon becomes wavering, ambiguous, and 
false ; it needs good teachers and good examples to 
keep it up to the mark and line of duty ; and the 



90 



SAINTLINESS THE STANDARD [Disc. 



misery is, that these external helps, teachers, and 
examples are in many instances wanting. 

Nay, to the great multitude of men they are so 
far wanting, that conscience loses its way and directs 
the soul in its journey heavenward but indirectly 
and circuitously. Even in countries called Christian, 
the natural inward light grows dim, because the 
Light, which lightens every one born into the world, 
is removed out of sight. I say, it is a most miserable 
and frightful thought, that, in this country, among this 
people which boasts that it is so Christian and so en- 
lightened, the sun in the heavens is so eclipsed that 
the mirror of conscience can catch and reflect few 
rays, and serves but poorly and scantily to preserve 
the foot from error. That inward light, given as it is 
by God, is powerless to illuminate the horizon, to 
mark out for us our direction, and to comfort us 
with the certainty that we are making for our Eter- 
nal Home. It was intended to set up within us a 
standard of right and of truth ; to tell us our duty 
on every emergency, to instruct us in detail what 
sin is, to judge between all things which come 
before us, to discriminate the precious from the 
vile, to hinder us from being seduced by what is 
pleasant and agreeable, and to dissipate the sophisms 
of our reason. But, alas ! what ideas of truth, what 
ideas of holiness, what ideas of heroism, what ideas 
of the good and the great, have the multitude of 
men % I am not asking whether they act up to any 
ideas, or are swayed by any ideas, of these high 



V.] OF CHRISTIAN PRINCIPLE. 91 

objects; that is a further point; I only ask, have 
they any ideas of them at all ? or, if they cannot 
altogether blot out from their souls the ideas of 
greatness and goodness, still, whether their mode of 
conceiving of them, and the things in which they 
embody them, be not such, that we may truly say 
of the bulk of mankind, that " the light that is in it 
is darkness % " 

Attend to me, my dear brethren, I am saying 
nothing very abstruse, nothing very difficult to un- 
derstand, nothing unimportant; but something in- 
telligible, undeniable, and of very general concern. 
You know there are persons who never see the light 
of day ; they live in pits and mines, and there they 
work, there they take their pleasure, and there 
perhaps they die. Do you think they have any 
right idea, though they have eyes, of the sun's 
radiance, of the sun's warmth ? any idea of the 
beautiful arching heavens, the blue sky, the soft 
clouds, and the moon and stars by night ? any idea 
of the high mountain, and the green smiling earth ? 
O what an hour it is for him who is suddenly 
brought from such a pit or cave, from the dull red 
glow and the flickering glare of torches, and that 
monotony of artificial twilight, in which day and 
night are lost, is suddenly, I say, brought thence, and 
for the first time sees the bright sun moving majes- 
tically from East to West, and witnesses the gradual 
graceful changes of the air and sky from morn till 
fragrant evening ! And oh ! what a sight for one 



92 



SAINTLINESS THE STANDARD 



[Disc 



born blind to begin to see, — a sense altogether foreign 
to all his previous conceptions ! What a marvellous 
new being, which, though he could hear before and 
touch before, never had he been able, by the words 
of others, or any means of information he possessed, 
to bring home to himself in the faintest measure ! 
Would he not find himself, as it is said, in a " new 
world?" What a revolution would take place in 
his modes of thought, in his habits, in his ways, and 
in his doings hour by hour ! He would no longer 
direct himself with his hands and his ears, he would 
no longer grope about ; he would see ; he would at a 
glance take in ten thousand objects, and, what is 
more, their relations and their positions the one to 
the other. He would know what was great and 
what was little, what was near, what was distant, 
what things converged together, and what things were 
ever separate, in a word he would see all things as a 
whole, and in subjection to himself as a centre. 

But further, he would gain knowledge of some- 
thing closer to himself and more personal, than all 
these various objects; of something very different 
from the forms and groups in which light dwelt as 
in a tabernacle, and which excited his admiration 
and love. He would discover lying upon him, 
spreading over him, penetrating him, the festering- 
seeds of unhealthiness and disease in their primary 
and minutest forms. The air around us is charged 
with a subtle powder or dust, which falls down 
softly on every thing, silently sheds itself on every 



v.] 



OF CHRISTIAN PRINCIPLE. 



93 



thing, soils and stains every thing, and, if suffered to 
remain undisturbed, induces sickness and engenders 
pestilence. It is like those ashes of the furnace, 
which Moses was instructed to take up and scatter 
in the face of heaven, that they might become ulcers 
and blisters upon the flesh of the Egyptians. This 
subtle plague is felt in its ultimate consequences by 
all, the blind as well as those who see ; but it is by 
the eyesight that we discern it in its origin and in 
its progress ; it is by the light that we discern our 
own defilement, and the need we have of continual 
cleansing to rid ourselves of it. 

Now what is this dust and dirt, my brethren, but 
a figure of sin ? so subtle is its approach, so multi- 
tudinous in its array, so incessant in its solicitations, 
so insignificant in its seeming, so odious, so poisonous 
in its effects. It falls on the soul gently and imper- 
ceptibly; but it gradually breeds wounds and sores, 
and ends in everlasting death. And as we cannot 
see the dust of the earth that has settled on us with- 
out the light, and as that same light, which makes 
us to see it, teaches us withal, by the very contrast 
with itself, its unseemliness and dishonour, so the 
light of the invisible world, the teaching and ex- 
amples of revealed truth, bring home to us both 
the existence and also the deformity of sin, of which 
we should be unmindful or forgetful without them. 
And as there are men who live in caverns and 
mines, and never see the face of day, and do their 
work as they can by torch-light, so there are mul- 



94 



SAINTLINESS THE STANDARD [Drsc. 



titudes, nay, whole races of men, who, though pos- 
sessed of eyes by nature, cannot use them duly, 
because they live in the spiritual pit, in the region 
of darkness, " in the land of wretchedness and 
gloom, where there is the shadow of death, and 
where order is not." 

There they are born, there they live, there they 
die ; and instead of the bright, broad, and all- 
revealing luminousness of the sun, they grope their 
way from place to place with torches, as best they 
may, or fix up lamps at certain points, and " walk in 
the light of their fire, and in the flames which they 
have kindled ;" because they have nothing clearer, 
nothing purer, to serve the needs of the day and year. 
Light of some kind they must secure, and, when 
they can do no better, they make it for themselves. 
Man, a being endued with reason, cannot on that 
very account live altogether at random ; he is 
obliged in some sense to live on principle, to live by 
rule, to profess a view of life, to have an aim, to set 
up a standard, and to take to him such examples as 
seem to him to fulfil it. His reason does not make 
him independent, (as men sometimes speak,) it 
forces on him a dependency on principles and laws, 
in order to satisfy its own demands. He must, by 
the necessity of his nature, look up to something ; 
and he creates, if he cannot discover, an object for 
his veneration. He teaches himself, or is taught by 
his neighbour, falsehoods, if he is not taught truth 
from above ; he makes to himself idols, if he knows 



V.] OF CHRISTIAN PRINCIPLE. 95 

not of the Eternal God and His Saints. Now which 
of the two, think you, my brethren, have our country- 
men ? have they possession of the true object of 
worship, or have they a false one ? have they created 
what is not, or discovered what is ? do they walk by 
the luminaries of heaven, or are they as those who 
are born and live in caverns, and who strike their 
light as best they may, by means of the stones and 
metals of the earth ? 

Look around, my brethren, and answer for your- 
selves. Contemplate the objects of this people's 
praise, survey their standards, ponder their ideas and 
judgments, and then tell me whether it is not 
most evident, from their very notion of the desirable 
and the excellent, that greatness, and goodness, and 
sanctity, and sublimity, and truth are unknown to 
them ; and that they do not only not pursue, but do 
not even admire, those high attributes of the Divine 
Nature. This is what I am insisting on, not what 
they actually do or what they are, but what they 
revere, what they adore, what their gods are. Their 
god is mammon ; I do not mean to say that all seek 
to be wealthy, but that all bow down before wealth. 
Wealth is that to which the multitude of men pay an 
instinctive homage. They measure happiness by 
wealth ; and by wealth they measure respectability. 
Numbers, I say, there are, who never dream that they 
shall be rich themselves, but who still at the sight of 
wealth feel an involuntary reverence and awe, just 
as if a rich man must be a good man. They like to 



96 



SAINTLINESS THE STANDARD 



[Disc. 



be noticed by some particular ricb man ; they like 
on some occasion to have spoken with him ; they 
like to know those who know him, to be intimate 
with his dependants, to have entered his house, nay, 
to know him by sight. Not, I repeat, that it ever 
comes into their mind that such wealth will one day 
be theirs ; not that they see the wealth, for the man 
who has it may dress, and live, and look like other 
men ; not that they expect to gain some benefit 
from it : no, theirs is a disinterested homage, it is a 
homage resulting from an honest, genuine, hearty 
admiration of wealth for its own sake, such as that 
pure love which holy men feel for the Maker of all ; 
it is a homage resulting from a profound faith in 
wealth, from the intimate sentiment of their hearts, 
that, however a man may look, — poor, mean, starved, 
decrepit, vulgar, — yet, if he be rich, he differs from 
all others ; if he be rich, he has a gift, a spell, an om- 
nipotence, — that with wealth he may do all things. 

Wealth is one idol of the day, and notoriety is a 
second. I am not speaking, I repeat, of what men 
pursue, but what they look up to, what they revere. 
Men may not have the opportunity of pursuing what 
still they admire. Never could notoriety exist as it 
does now, in any former age of the world ; now that 
the news of the hour from all parts of the world, 
private news as well as public, is brought day by 
day to every individual, I may say, of the com- 
munity, to the poorest artisan and the most se- 
cluded peasant, by processes so uniform, so un- 



v.] 



OF CHRISTIAN PRINCIPLE. 



97 



varying, so spontaneous, that they almost bear the 
semblance of a natural law. And hence notoriety, 
or the making a noise in the world, has come to 
be considered a great good in itself, and a ground 
of veneration. Time was when men could only 
make a display by means of expenditure ; and the 
world used to gaze with wonder on those who had 
large establishments, many servants, many horses, 
richly-furnished houses, gardens, and parks : it does 
so still, but it has not often the opportunity: for 
such magnificence is the fortune of the few, and 
comparatively few are its witnesses. Notoriety, or, 
as it may be called, newspaper fame, is to the many 
what style and fashion, to use the language of the 
world, are to those who happen to be within their 
influence ; it becomes to them a sort of idol, wor- 
shipped for its own sake, and without any reference 
to the shape in which it comes before them. It 
may be an evil fame or a good fame; it may be 
the notoriety of a great statesman, or of a great 
preacher, or of a great speculator, or of a great 
experimentalist, or of a great criminal ; of one who 
has laboured in the improvement of our schools, or 
hospitals, or prisons, or workhouses, or of one who has 
robbed his neighbour of his wife. It matters not ; 
so that a man is talked much of, and read much of, 
he is thought much of ; nay, let him have even died 
justly under the hands of the law, still he will be 
made a sort of martyr of. His clothes, his hand- 
writing, the circumstances of his guilt, the instru- 

H 



98 



SAINTLINESS THE STANDARD 



[Disc. 



rnents of his deed of blood, will be shown about, 
gazed on, treasured up as so many relics; for the 
question with men is, not whether he is great, or 
good, or wise, or holy, not whether he is base, and 
vile, and odious, but whether he is in the mouths 
of men, whether he has centred on himself the 
attention of many, whether he has done something 
out of the way, whether he has been (as it were) 
canonized in the publications of the hour. All men 
cannot be notorious ; the multitudes who thus 
honour notoriety, do not seek it themselves; nor 
am I speaking of what men do, but how they 
judge ; yet instances do occur from time to time, 
of wretched men, so smitten with the passion for 
notoriety, as even to dare in fact some detestable 
and wanton act, not from love of it, not from liking 
or dislike of the person against whom it is directed, 
but simply in order thereby to gratify this impure 
desire of being talked about, and being looked at. 
" These are thy gods, O Israel ! " Alas ! alas ! this 
great and noble people, born to aspire, born for 
reverence, behold them walking to and fro by the 
torch-light of the cavern, or pursuing the wild-fires 
of the marsh, not understanding themselves, their 
destinies, their defilements, their needs, because they 
have not the glorious luminaries of heaven to see, to 
consult, and to admire ! 

But oh ! what a change, my brethren, when the 
good hand of God brings them by some marvellous 
providence to the pit's mouth, and so out into the 



V.] OF CHRISTIAN PRINCIPLE. 99 

blessed light of clay ! what a change for them when 
they first begin to see with the eyes of the soul, with 
the intuition which grace gives, Jesus the Sun of 
Justice, and the heaven of Angels and Archangels 
in which He dwells ; and the bright Morning Star, 
which is the Blessed Mary ; and the continual 
floods of light falling and striking against the earth, 
and transformed, as they fall, into an infinity of 
hues, which are the Saints ; and the boundless 
sea, which is the image of divine immensity ; and 
then again the calm, placid Moon by night, which 
images His Church ; and the silent stars, like good 
and holy men, travelling on in lonely pilgrimage to 
their eternal rest ! Such was the surprise, such the 
transport, which came upon the favoured disciples, 
whom, on one occasion, our Lord took up with Him 
to the top of Tabor. He left the sick world, the 
tormented restless multitude, at its foot, and He 
took them up, and was transfigured before them. 
" His Face did shine as the sun, and His raiment was 
white as the light ;" and they lifted up their eyes, 
and saw on either side of Him a bright form ; these 
were two Saints of the elder covenant, Moses and 
Elias, who were conversing with Him. How truly 
was this a glimpse of Heaven ! the holy Apostles 
were introduced into a new range of ideas, into 
a new sphere of contemplation, till St. Peter, over- 
come by the vision, cried out, " Lord, it is good to 
be here ; and let us make three tabernacles." He 
would have kept those heavenly glories always with 

h 2 



100 



SAINTLINESS THE STANDARD 



[Disc. 



him ; every thing on earth, the brightest, the fairest, 
the noblest, paled, and dwindled away, and turned 
to corruption before them ; its most substantial good 
was vanity, its richest gain was dross, its keenest 
joy a weariness, and its sin a loathsomeness and 
abomination. And such as this in its measure is 
the contrast, to which the awakened soul is witness, 
between the objects of its admiration and pursuit 
in its natural state, and those which burst upon it 
when it has entered into communion with the 
Church Invisible, when it has come " to mount Sion, 
and to the city of the Living God, the heavenly 
Jerusalem, and to that multitude of many thousand 
Angels, and to the Church of the first-born, who are 
enrolled in heaven, and to God the Judge of all, and 
to the spirits of the just now perfected, and to Jesus 
the Mediator of the New Testament." From that 
day it has begun a new life : I am not speaking 
of any moral conversion which takes place in it; 
whether or not it is moved, (as surely we believe 
it will be,) to act upon the sights which it sees, yet 
consider only what a change in its views and esti- 
mation of things there will be, directly it has heard 
and has faith in the word of God, as soon as it 
understands that wealth, and notoriety, and in- 
fluence, and high place are not the first of blessings 
and the standard of good ; but that saintliness and 
all its attendants, — saintly purity, saintly poverty, 
renouncement of the world, the favour of Heaven, 
the protection of Angels, the smile of the Blessed 



V.] OF CHRISTIAN PRINCIPLE. 101 

Mary, the gifts of grace, the interpositions of 
miracle, the intercommunion of merits, — that these 
are the high and precious things, the things to be 
looked up to, the things to be reverently spoken of. 
Hence worldly-minded men, however rich, if they 
are Catholics, cannot, till they utterly lose their 
faith, be the same as those who are external to the 
Church ; they have an instinctive veneration for 
those who have the traces of heaven upon them, and 
they praise what they do not imitate. 

They have an idea before them, which Protestants 
have not ; they have the idea of a Saint ; they 
believe, they realize the existence of those rare ser- 
vants of God, who rise up from time to time in the 
Catholic Church like Angels in disguise, and shed 
around them a light, as they walk on their way 
heavenward. They may not do what is right and 
good, but they know what is true ; they know what 
to think and how to judge. They have a standard 
for their principles of conduct, and it is the image 
of a Saint which makes it. A Saint is born like 
another man ; by nature a child of wrath, and 
needing God's grace to regenerate him. He is bap- 
tized like another, he lies helpless and senseless like 
another, and like another child he comes to years of 
reason. But soon his parents and their neighbours 
begin to say, " This is a strange child, he is unlike 
any other child ;" his brothers and his playmates 
feel an awe of him, they do not know why ; they 
both like him and dislike him, perhaps love him 



102 



SAINTLIXESS THE STANDARD 



[Disc. 



much in spite of his strangeness, perhaps respect 
him more than they love him. But if there were 
any holy Priest there, or others who had long 
served God in prayer and obedience, these would 
say, "This truly is a wonderful child; this child 
bids fair to be a Saint." And so he grows up, 
whether at first he is duly prized by his parents or 
not ; for so it is with all greatness, that, because it 
is great, it cannot be comprehended by ordinary 
minds at once ; but time, and distance, and con- 
templation are necessary for its being recognized by 
beholders. And, therefore, this special heir of glory 
of whom I am speaking, for a time at least, excites 
no very definite observation, unless indeed (as some- 
times happens) any thing of miracle occurs from 
time to time to mark him out. He has come to 
the age of reason, and, wonderful to say, he has 
never fallen away by sin. Other children begin to 
use the gift of reason by abusing it ; they under- 
stand what is right and good, only to go counter to 
it ; it is otherwise with him, — not that he does not 
sin in many things, when we place him in the awful 
ray of divine purity, but that he does not sin wil- 
fully and grievously, — he is preserved from mortal sin, 
he is never separated from God by sin, nay, perhaps, 
he is betrayed only at intervals into any deliberate 
sin, be it ever so slight ; nor has he any habits of 
lesser or venial sin, or he is watching and resisting 
them. He ever lives in the presence of God, and 
is thereby preserved from evil, for " the wicked one 



v.] 



OF CHRISTIAN PRINCIPLE. 



103 



toucheth him not." Nor, as if in other and ordinary 
matters, he necessarily differed from other boys ; he 
may be ignorant, thoughtless, improvident of the 
future, rash, impetuous ; he is a child, and has the 
infirmities, failings, fears, and hopes of a child. He 
may be moved to anger, he may say a harsh word, 
he may offend his parents, he may be volatile and 
capricious, he may have no fixed view of things, such 
as a man has. This is not much to allow ; such 
things are accidents, and are compatible with the 
presence of a determinate influence of grace, uniting 
his heart to God. O that the multitude of men 
were as religious in their best seasons, as the Saints 
are in their worst ! though there have been Saints 
who seem to have been preserved even from the 
imperfections I have been mentioning. There have 
been Saints whose reason the all-powerful grace 
of God seems wonderfully to have opened from 
their baptism, so that they have offered to their 
Lord and Saviour " a living, holy, acceptable sacri- 
fice," " a rational service," even while they have been 
infants, And any how, whatever were his acts of 
infirmity and sin, they were the exception in his 
day's course ; the course of each day was religious : 
while other children are light-minded, and cannot 
fix their thoughts in prayer, prayer and praise and 
meditation are his meat and drink. He frequents 
the Churches, and places himself before the Blessed 
Sacrament ; or he is found before some holy image ; 
or sees visions of the Blessed Virgin, or the Saints to 



104 



SAINTLINESS THE STANDARD 



[Disc. 



whom he is devoted. He lives in intimate converse 
with his guardian Angel, and he shrinks from the 
very shadow of profaneness or impurity. And thus 
he is a special witness of the world unseen, and he 
realizes the vague ideas and the dreams of the 
supernatural, which one reads of in poems or ro- 
mances, with which young people are so much 
taken, and after which they cannot help sighing, 
before the world corrupts them. 

He grows up, and he has just the same tempta- 
tions as others, perhaps more violent ones. Men of 
this world, carnal men, unbelieving men, do not 
believe that the temptations which they themselves 
experience, and to which they yield, can be over- 
come. They reason themselves into the notion that 
to sin is their nature, and therefore no fault of theirs, 
that is, that it is not sin. And accordingly, when 
they read about the Saints or about holy men gene- 
rally, they conclude either that these have not had the 
temptations which they experience themselves, or 
have not overcome them. They either consider them 
to be hypocrites, who practise in private the sins 
which they denounce in public ; or, if they have 
decency enough to abstain from these calumnies, then 
they consider that they never felt the temptation, 
and they view them as cold and simple persons, who 
have never outgrown their childhood, who have con- 
tracted minds, who do not know the world and life, 
who are despicable while they are without influence, 
and dangerous and detestable from their ignorance 



V] 



OF CHRISTIAN PRINCIPLE. 



105 



when they are in power. But no, my brethren ; 
read the lives of the Saints, you will see how false 
and narrow a view this is ; these men, who think, 
forsooth, they know the world so well, and the 
nature of man so deeply, they know nothing of one 
great far-spreading phenomenon in man, — and that is 
his nature under the operation of grace ; they know 
nothing of the second nature, of the supernatural 
gift, induced by the Almighty Spirit upon our first 
and fallen nature ; they have never met, they have 
never read of, and they have formed no conception 
of, a Saint. 

He has, I say, the same temptations as another; 
perhaps greater, because he is to be tried as in a 
furnace, because he is to become rich in merits, 
because there is a bright crown reserved for him in 
Heaven ; still temptation he has, and he differs from 
others, not in being shielded from it, but in being 
armed against it. Grace overcomes nature ; it over- 
comes indeed in all who shall be saved ; none will 
see God's face hereafter who do not, while here, put 
away from them mortal sin of every kind ; but the 
Saints overcome with a determination and a vigour, a 
promptitude and a success beyond any one else. You 
read, my brethren, in the lives of Saints the wonder- 
ful account of their conflicts, and their triumphs over 
the enemy. They are, as I was saying, like heroes 
of romance, so gracefully, so nobly, so royally do 
they bear themselves. Their actions are as beautiful 
as fiction, yet as real as fact. There was St. Benedict, 



106 



SAINTLINESS THE STANDARD 



[Disc. 



who, when a boy, left Rome, and betook himself to 
the Apennines in the neighbourhood. Three years 
did he live in prayer, fasting, and solitude, while the 
Evil one assaulted him with temptation. One day, 
when it grew so fierce that he feared for his perse- 
verance, he suddenly flung himself, in his scanty 
hermit's garb, among the thorns and nettles near 
him, thus turning the current of his thoughts, and 
chastising the waywardness of the flesh, by sensible 
stings and smarts. There was St. Thomas too, 
the angelical Doctor, as he is called, as holy as 
he was profound, or rather the more profound 
in theological science, because he was so holy. 
"Even from a youth" he had "sought wisdom; 
he had stretched out his hands on high, and 
directed his soul to her, and possessed his heart 
with her from the beginning;" and so when the 
minister of Satan came into his very room, and no 
other defence was at hand, he seized a burning 
brand from the hearth, and drove that wicked one, 
scared and baffled, out of his presence. And there 
was that poor youth in the early persecutions, whom 
the impious heathen bound down with cords, and 
then brought in upon him a vision of evil ; and he 
in his agony bit off his tongue, and spit it off in the 
tempter's face, that so the intenseness of the pain 
might preserve him from the seduction. 

Such acts as these, my brethren, are an opening 
of the heavens, a sudden gleam of supernatural 
brightness across a dark sky. They enlarge the 



V.] OF CHRISTIAN PRINCIPLE. 107 

mind with ideas it had not before, and they show to 
the multitude what God can do, and what man can 
be. Though, doubtless, all Saints have not been 
such in youth ; there are those, who not till after a 
youth of sin have been brought by the sovereign 
grace of God to repentance, yet who, when con- 
verted, differed in nothing from those who have ever 
served Him, not in gifts, not in acceptableness, not 
in detachment from the world, or union with Christ, 
or exactness of obedience, in nought save in the 
severity of their penance. Others have been called, 
not from vice and ungodliness, but from a life of 
mere ordinary blamelessness, or from a state of 
lukewarmness, or from thoughtlessness, to heroic 
greatness ; and these have often given up lands, and 
property, and honours, and station, and repute, for 
Christ's sake. Kings have descended from their 
thrones, bishops have given up their rank and influ- 
ence, the learned have given up the pride of intel- 
lect, to become poor monks, to live on coarse fare, 
to be clad in humble weeds, to rise and pray while 
others slept, to mortify the tongue with silence and 
the limbs with toil, and to avow an unconditional 
obedience to another. In early times were the 
Martyrs, many of them children and girls, who bore 
the most cruel, the most prolonged, the most diversi- 
fied tortures, rather than deny the faith of Christ. 
Then came the Missionaries among the heathen, 
who, for the love of souls, threw themselves into the 
midst of savages, risking and perhaps losing their 



108 



SAINTLINESS THE STANDARD 



[Disc. 



lives in the attempt to extend the empire of their 
Lord and Saviour, and who, whether living or d) 7 ing, 
have by their lives or by their deaths succeeded 
in bringing over whole nations into the Church. 
Others have devoted themselves, in time of war, to 
the redemption of Christian captives from pagan or 
Mahometan conquerors ; others to the care of the 
sick in pestilences, or in hospitals; others to the 
instruction of the poor ; others to the education of 
children ; others to incessant preaching and the 
duties of the confessional ; others to devout study 
and meditation ; others to a life of intercession and 
prayer. Very various are the Saints, their very 
variety is a token of God's workmanship ; but how- 
ever various, and whatever their special line of duty, 
they have been heroes in it ; they have attained 
such noble self-command, they have so crucified the 
flesh, they have so renounced the world ; they are so 
meek, so gentle, so tender-hearted, so merciful, so 
sweet, so full of prayer, so diligent, so forgetful of 
injuries ; they have sustained such great and con- 
tinued pains, they have persevered in such vast 
labours, they have made such valiant confessions, 
they have wrought such abundant miracles, they 
have been blessed with such strange successes, that 
they have set up a standard before us of truth, of 
holiness, of love. They are not always our examples, 
we are not always bound to follow them ; not more 
than we are bound to obey literally some of our 
Lord's precepts, such as turning the cheek or giving 



V.] OF CHRISTIAN PRINCIPLE. 109 

away the coat; not more than we can follow the 
course of the sun, moon, or stars in the heavens ; but 
though not always our examples, they are always 
our standard of right and truth ; they are raised up to 
be monuments and lessons, they remind us of God, 
they introduce us into the unseen world, they teach 
us what Christ loves, they track out for us the way 
which leads heavenward. They are to us who see 
them, what wealth, notoriety, rank, and name are to 
the multitude of men who live in darkness, — objects 
of veneration and of worship. 

O who can doubt between the two 1 The national 
religion has many attractions : it leads to decency 
and order, propriety of conduct, justness of thought, 
domestic feelings ; but it does not lead the multitude 
upwards, it does not point out to them Heaven. It 
is of the earth, and its teaching is of the earth. It 
uses religious words, of course, else it could not 
be called a religion ; but it does not impress on the 
imagination, it does not engrave upon the heart, it 
does not inflict upon the conscience, the super- 
natural; it does not introduce into the popular 
mind any great ideas, such as are to be recognised 
by one and all, as common property, and first prin- 
ciples or dogmas from which to start, to be taken 
for granted on all hands, and handed down as 
images and specimens of eternal truth from age 
to age. It in no true sense teaches the Unseen; 
and by consequence, sights of this world, material 
tangible objects are the idols and the ruin of souls 



110 



SAINTLINESS THE STANDARD, &c. 



which were made for God and Heaven. It is power- 
less to resist the world and the world's teach- 
ing : it cannot supplant error by truth ; it follows 
when it should lead. There is but one real An- 
tagonist of the world, and that is the faith of 
Catholics ; — Christ set it up, and it will do its work 
on earth, as it ever has done, till He comes again. 



DISCOURSE VI 



GOD'S WILL THE END OF LIFE. 



I am going to ask you a question, my dear brethren, 
so trite, and therefore so uninteresting at first sight, 
that you may wonder why I put it, and may object 
that it will be difficult to fix the mind on it, and 
may anticipate that nothing profitable can be made 
of it. It is this : — " Why were you sent into the 
world?" Yet, after all, it is perhaps a thought more 
obvious than it is common, more easy than it is 
familiar ; I mean, it ought to come into your minds, 
but it does not, you never had more than a distant 
acquaintance with it, though that sort of acquaint- 
ance you have had with it for many years. Nay, 
once or twice, perhaps you have been thrown across 
it somewhat intimately, for a short season, but this 
was an accident which did not last. There are 
those who recollect the first time, as it would seem, 
when it came home to them. They were but little 



U2 



GOD'S WILL THE END OF LIFE. 



[Disc. 



children, and they were by themselves, and they 
spontaneously asked themselves, or rather God spake 
in them, " Why am I here ? how came I here ? who 
brought me here? what am I to do here?" Perhaps 
it was the first act of reason, the beginning of their 
real responsibility, the commencement of their trial ; 
perhaps from that day they may date their capacity, 
their awful power, of choosing between good and 
evil, and of committing mortal sin. And so, as 
life goes on, the thought comes vividly, from time 
to time, for a short season across the conscience ; 
whether in illness or in some anxiety, or some 
season of solitude, or on hearing some preacher, or 
reading some religious work. A vivid feeling comes 
over them of the vanity and unprofitableness of the 
world, and then the question recurs, " Why then am 
I sent into it?" 

And a great contrast indeed does this vain, un- 
profitable, yet overbearing world, present with such 
a question as that. It seems out of place to ask 
such a question in so magnificent, so imposing a 
presence, as that of the great Babylon. The world 
professes to supply all that we need, as if we were 
sent into it for the sake of being sent, and for 
nothing beyond the sending. It is a great favour 
to have an introduction to this august world. This is 
to be our exposition, forsooth, of the mystery of life. 
Every man is doing his own will here, seeking his 
own pleasure, pursuing his own ends, and that is why 
he was brought into existence. Go abroad into the 



VI.] 



GOD'S WILL THE END OF LIFE. 



113 



streets of the populous city, contemplate the con- 
tinuous outpouring there of human energy, and 
the countless varieties of human character, and 
be satisfied. The ways are thronged, carriage-way 
and pavement ; multitudes are hurrying to and fro, 
each on his own errand, or are loitering about from 
listlessness, or from want of work, or have come 
forth into the public concourse, to see and to be seen, 
for amusement, or for display, or on the excuse of 
business. The carriages of the wealthy mingle with 
the slow wains laden with provisions or merchan- 
dise, the productions of art or the demands of 
luxury. The streets are lined with shops, open and 
gay, inviting customers, and widen now and then 
into some spacious square or place, with lofty masses 
of brickwork or of stone, gleaming in the fitful 
sunbeam, and surrounded or fronted with what simu- 
lates a garden's foliage. Follow them in another 
direction, and you find the whole groundstead co- 
vered with the large buildings, planted thickly up 
and down, the homes of the mechanical arts. The 
air is filled, below, with a ceaseless, importunate, mo- 
notonous din, which penetrates even to your inner- 
most chamber, and rings in your ear, even when you 
are not conscious of it; and overhead, with a canopy 
of smoke, shrouding God's day from the realms of ob- 
stinate sullen toil. This is the end of man ! Or stay 
at home, and take up one of those daily prints, 
which are so true a picture of the world ; look 
down the columns of advertisements, and you will 

I 



114 GOD'S WILL THE END OF LIFE. [Disc. 



see the catalogue of pursuits, projects, aims, amuse- 
ments, indulgences which occupy the mind of man. 
He plays many parts : here he has goods to sell, 
there he wants employment; there again he seeks 
to borrow money, here he offers you houses, great 
seats or small tenements ; he has food for the mil- 
lion, and luxuries for the wealthy, and sovereign 
medicines for the credulous, and books, new and 
cheap, for the inquisitive. Pass on to the news of 
the day, and you will learn what great men are 
doing at home and abroad : you will read of wars 
and rumours of wars ; of debates in the Legislature ; 
of rising men, and old statesmen going off the scene ; 
of political contests in this city or that county; of 
the collision of rival interests. You will read of the 
money market, and the provision market, and the 
markets for metals ; of the state of trade, the call 
for manufactures, news of ships arrived in port, of 
accidents at sea, of exports and imports, of gains and 
losses, of frauds and their detection. Go forward, 
and you arrive at discoveries in art and science, dis- 
coveries (so called) in religion, the court and royalty, 
the entertainments of the great, places of amuse- 
ment, strange trials, offences, accidents, escapes, ex- 
ploits, experiments, contests, ventures. O this cu- 
rious, restless, clamorous, panting, being, which we 
call life ! — and is there to be no end to all this ? is 
there no object in it? It never has an end, it is its 
own object ! — And now, once more, my brethren, put 
aside what you see and what you read of the world, 



VI.] 



GOD'S WILL THE END OF LIFE. 



115 



and try to penetrate into the hearts, and to reach the 
ideas and the feelings of those who constitute it ; 
look into them as nearly as you can ; enter into their 
houses and private rooms ; strike at random through 
the streets and lanes, take as they come, palace and 
hovel, office or factory, and what will you find I 
Listen to their words, witness, alas ! their works ; 
you will find in the main the same lawless thoughts, 
the same unrestrained desires, the same ungoverned 
passions, the same earthly opinions, the same wilful 
deeds, in high and low, learned and unlearned ; you 
will find them all to be living for the sake of living ; 
they one and all seem to tell you, " We are our own 
centre, our own end." Why are they toiling? why 
are they scheming ? for what are they living ? We 
live to please ourselves ; life is worthless except we 
have our own way ; we are not sent here at all, but 
we find ourselves here, and we are but slaves unless 
we can think what we will, believe what we will, 
love what we will, hate what we will, do what we 
will. We detest interference on the part of God 
or man. We do not bargain to be rich or to be 
great; but we do bargain, whether rich or poor, 
high or low, to live for ourselves, to live for the 
lust of the moment, or according to the doctrine of 
the hour, thinking of the future and the unseen just 
as much or as little as we please. 

O, my brethren, is it not a shocking thought, but 
who can deny its truth ? The multitude of men are 
living without any aim beyond this visible scene; 

i 2 



116 



GOD'S WILL THE END OF LIFE. 



[Disc. 



they may from time to time use religious words, or 
they may profess a communion or a worship, as a 
matter of course or of necessity, but, if there was 
any sincerity in such profession, the course of the 
world could not run as it does. What a contrast to 
the end of life, as it is set before us in our most 
holv Faith ! If there was one among the sons 
of men, who might allowably have taken His 
pleasure, and have done His own will here below, 
surely it was He, who came down on earth from 
the bosom of the Father, and who was so pure and 
spotless in that human nature which He put on 
Him, that he could have no human wish or aim 
inconsistent with the will of His Father. Yet He, 
the Son of God, the Eternal Word, came, not to do 
His own will, but His who sent Him, as you know 
very well is told us again and again in Scripture. 
Thus the Prophet in the Psalter, speaking in His 
person, says, " Lo, T come to do Thy will, God." 
And He says in the Prophet Isaias, " The Lord God 
hath opened Mine ear, and I do not resist; I 
have not gone back." And in the Gospel, when He 
had come on earth, " My food is to do the will of 
Him that sent Me, and to finish His work." Hence 
too in His agony He cried out, " Not My will, but 
Thine, be done;" and St. Paul, in like manner, says, 
that " Christ pleased not Himself ;" and elsewhere, 
that, "though He was God's Son, yet learned He 
obedience by the things which He suffered." Surely 
so it was; as being indeed the Eternal Co-equal 



VI ] GOD'S WILL THE END OF LIFE. 117 

Son, His will was one and the same with the 
Father's will, and He had no submission of will to 
make ; but He chose to take on Him man's nature, 
and the will of that nature ; He chose to take on 
Him affections, feelings, and inclinations proper to 
man, a will innocent indeed and good, but still a 
man's will, distinct from God's will ; a will, which, 
had it acted simply according to what was pleasing 
to its nature, would, when pain and toil was to be 
endured, have held back from an active co-operation 
with the will of God. But, though He took on 
Himself the nature of man, He took not on Him 
that selfishness, with which fallen man wraps himself 
round, but in all things devoted Himself as a ready 
sacrifice to His Father. He came on earth, not to 
take His pleasure, not to follow His taste, not for 
the mere exercise of human affection, but simply to 
glorify His Father and to do His will. He came 
charged with a mission, deputed for a work; He 
looked not to the right nor to the left, He thought 
not of Himself, He offered Himself up to God. 

Hence it is that He was carried in the womb 
of a poor woman ; who, before His birth, had two 
journeys to make, of love and of obedience, to the 
mountains and to Bethlehem. He was born in a 
stable, and laid in a manger. He was hurried off to 
Egypt to sojourn there ; then He lived till He was 
thirty years of age in a poor way, by a rough 
trade, in a small house, in a despised town. Then, 
when He went out to preach, He had not where to 



118 



GOD'S WILL THE END OF LIFE. [Disc. 



lay His head ; He wandered up and down the 
country, as a stranger upon earth. He was driven 
out into the wilderness, and dwelt among the wild 
beasts. He endured heat and cold, hunger and 
weariness, reproach and calumny. His food was 
coarse bread, and fish from the lake, or depended on 
the hospitality of strangers. And as He had already 
left His Fathers greatness on high, and had chosen 
an earthly home ; so again, at that Father's bidding, 
He gave up the sole solace given Him in this world, 
and denied Himself His Mother's presence. He 
parted with her who bore Him ; He endured to be 
strange to her; He endured to call her coldly 
"woman," who was His own undefiled one, all 
beautiful, all gracious, the best creature of His 
hands, and the sweet nurse of His infancy. He put 
her aside, as Levi, His type, merited the sacred 
ministry, by saying to his parents and kinsmen, " I 
know you not." He exemplified in His own person 
the severe maxim, which He gave to His disciples, 
"He that loveth mother more than Me is not 
worthy of Me." In all these many ways He 
sacrificed every wish of His own; that we might 
understand, that, if He, the Creator, came into His 
own world, not for His own pleasure, but to do His 
Father's will, we too have most surely some work to 
do, and have seriously to bethink ourselves what 
that work is. 

Yes, so it is ; realize it, my brethren ; — every one 
who breathes, high and low, educated and ignorant, 



VI.] GOD'S WILL THE END OF LIFE. 119 

young and old, man and woman, has a mission, has 
a work. We are not sent into this world for no- 
thing ; we are not born at random ; we are not here, 
that we may go to bed at night, and get up in the 
morning, toil for our bread, eat and drink, laugh and 
joke, sin when we have a mind, and reform when 
we are tired of it, rear a family and die. God sees 
every one of us ; He creates every soul, puts it into 
the body, one by one, for a purpose. He needs, He 
deigns to need, every one of us. He has an end for 
each of us; we are all equal in His sight, and we 
are placed in our different ranks and stations, not to 
get what we can out of them for ourselves, but to 
labour in them for Him. As Christ has His work, 
we too have ours ; as He rejoiced to do His work, 
we must rejoice in ours also. 

St. Paul on one occasion speaks of the world as a 
scene in a theatre. Consider what is meant by this. 
You know, actors on a stage are on an equality with 
each other really, but for the occasion they assume a 
difference of character, some are high, some are low, 
some are merry, and some sad. Well, would it not 
be a simple absurdity in any actor to pride himself 
on his mock diadem, or his edgeless sword, instead 
of attending to his part ? what, if he did but gaze 
at himself and his dress ? what if he secreted, or 
turned to his own use, what was valuable about it? 
Is it not his business, and nothing else, to act his 
part well ? common sense tells us so. Now we are 
all but actors in this world; we are one and all 



120 



GOD'S WILL THE END OF LIFE. 



[Disc. 



equal, we shall be judged as equals as soon as life is 
over ; yet, equal and similar in ourselves, each has 
his special part at present, each has his work, each 
has his mission, — not to indulge his passions, not to 
make money, not to get a name in the world, not to 
save himself trouble, not to follow his bent, not to 
be selfish and self-willed, but to do what God puts 
on him to do. 

Look at that poor profligate in the Gospel, look 
at Dives; do you think he understood that his 
wealth was to be spent, not on himself, but for the 
glory of God ? — yet for forgetting this, he was lost 
for ever and ever. I will tell you what he thought, 
and how he viewed things : — he was a young man, 
and had succeeded to a good estate, and he deter- 
mined to enjoy himself. It did not strike him that 
his wealth had any other use than that of enabling 
him to take his pleasure. Lazarus lay at his gate; 
he might have relieved Lazarus ; that was God's 
will ; but he managed to put conscience aside, and 
he persuaded himself he should be a fool, if he did 
not make the most of this world, while he had the 
means. So he resolved to have his fill of pleasure ; 
and feasting was to his mind a principal part of it. 
"He fared sumptuously every day;" every thing be- 
longing to him was in the best style, as men speak ; 
his house, his furniture, his plate of silver and gold, 
his attendants, his establishments. Every thing was 
for enjoyment, and for show too ; to attract the eyes 
of the world, and to gain the applause and admira- 



VI.] 



GOD'S WILL THE END OF LIFE. 



121 



tion of his equals, who were the companions of his 
sins. These companions were doubtless such as 
became a young man of such pretension ; they were 
fashionable men ; a collection of refined, high-bred, 
haughty youths, eating, not gluttonously, but what 
was rare and costly ; delicate, exact, fastidious in 
their taste, from their very habits of indulgence ; not 
eating for the sake of eating, or drinking for the 
sake of drinking, but making a sort of science of 
their sensuality ; sensual, carnal, as flesh and blood 
can be, with eyes, ears, tongue, steeped in impurity, 
every thought, look, and sense, witnessing or minis- 
tering to the evil one who ruled them ; yet, with 
exquisite correctness of idea and judgment, laying 
down rules for sinning ; — heartless and selfish, high, 
punctilious, and disdainful in their outward deport- 
ment, and shrinking from Lazarus, who lay at the 
gate as an eye-sore, who ought for the sake of 
decency to be put out of the way. Dives was one 
of them, and so he lived his short span, thinking of 
nothing, loving nothing, but himself, till one day he 
got into a fatal quarrel with one of his godless 
associates, or he caught some bad illness ; and then 
he lay helpless on his bed of pain, cursing fortune 
and his physician, that he was no better, and impa- 
tient that he was thus kept from enjoying his youth, 
trying to fancy himself mending when he was 
getting worse, and disgusted at those who would not 
throw him some word of comfort in his suspense, 
and turning more resolutely from his Creator in pro- 



V22 



GOD'S WILL THE END OF LIFE. 



[Disc. 



portion to his suffering: — and then at last his day 
came, and he died, and (O miserable !) was buried 
in hell. And so ended he and his mission. 

This was the fate of your pattern and idol, O ye, 
if any of you be present, young men, who, though 
not possessed of wealth and rank, yet affect the 
fashions of those who have them. You, my 
brethren, have not been born splendidly or nobly; 
you have not been brought up in the seats of liberal 
education ; you have no high connexions ; you have 
not learned the manners nor caught the tone of 
good society, you have no share of the largeness of 
mind, the candour, the romantic sense of honour, 
the correctness of taste, the consideration for others, 
and the gentleness, which the world puts forth as its 
highest type of excellence ; you have not come near 
the courts or the mansions of the great; yet you 
ape the sin of Dives, while you are strangers to his 
refinement. You think it the sign of a gentleman 
to set yourselves above religion, to criticise the 
religious and professors of religion, to look at 
Catholic and Methodist with impartial contempt, to 
gain a smattering of knowledge on a number of sub- 
jects, to dip into a number of frivolous publications, 
if they are popular, to have read the latest novel, to 
have heard the singer and seen the actor of the day, 
to be up to the news, to know the names, and, if so 
be, the persons of public men, to be able to bow to 
them, to walk up and down the street with your 
heads on high, and to stare at whatever meets 



VI.] GOD'S WILL THE END OF LIFE. 123 

you; — and to say and do worse things, of which 
these outward extravagancies are but the symbol. 
And this is what you conceive you have come upon 
earth for ! The Creator made you, it seems, O my 
children, for this work and office, to be a bad 
imitation of polished ungodliness, to be a piece of 
tawdry and faded finery, or a scent which has lost its 
freshness, and does but offend the sense ! O that 
you could see how absurd and base are such pre- 
tences in the eyes of any but yourselves ! No 
calling of life but is honourable ; no one is ridi- 
culous who acts suitably to his estate and calling ; 
no one, who has good sense and humility but may, 
in any station of life, be truly well-bred and refined ; 
but ostentation, affectation, and ambitious efforts are, 
in every station of life, high or low, nothing but 
vulgarities. Put them aside, despise them your- 
selves, O any very dear sons, whom I love, and 
whom I would fain serve; O that you could feel 
that you have souls ! O that you would have mercy 
on your souls ! O that, before it is too late, you 
would betake yourselves to Him who is the Source 
of all that is truly high and magnificent and beauti- 
ful, all that is bright and pleasant, and secure what 
you ignorantly seek, in Him whom you so wilfully, 
so awfully despise ! 

He alone, the Son of God, " the brightness of the 
Eternal Light, and the spotless mirror of His 
Majesty," is the Source of all good and all happiness 
to rich and poor, high and low. If you were ever 



124 



GOD ? S WILL THE END OF LIFE. 



[Disc. 



so high, you would need Him ; if you were ever so 
low, you could offend Him. The poor can offend 
Him ; the poor man can neglect his divinely appointed 
mission, as well as the rich. Do not suppose, my 
brethren, that what I have said against the upper or 
middle class, does not also lie against you, provided 
you are poor. Though a man were as poor as 
Lazarus, he could be as guilty as Dives. If you will 
degrade yourselves to the brutes of the field, who 
have no reason and no conscience, you need not 
wealth or rank to do so. Brutes have no wealth ; 
they have no pride of life ; they have no purple and 
fine linen, no splendid table, no retinue of servants, 
in order to be brutes. They are brutes by the law 
of their nature : they are the poorest among the 
poor ; there is not a vagrant and outcast who is so 
poor as they; they differ from him, not in their 
possessions, but in their want of a soul, in that he 
has a mission and they have not, he can sin and they 
can not. O, my brethren, it stands to reason, a 
man may intoxicate himself with a cheap draught, 
as well as with a costly one ; he may steal another's 
money for his appetites, if he does not waste his own 
upon them ; he may break through the natural and 
social laws which encircle him, and profane the 
sanctity of family duties, though he be, not a child 
of nobles, but a peasant or artizan, — nay, and per- 
haps he does so more frequently than they. This is 
not the poor's blessedness, that he has less tempta- 
tions to self-indulgence, for he has as many, but that 



VI.] 



GOD'S WILL THE END OF LIFE. 



]25 



from his circumstances he receives the penances and 
corrections of self-indulgence. Poverty is the mother 
of many pains and sorrows in their season, and these 
are God's messengers to lead the soul to repentance ; 
but, alas ! if the poor man indulges his passions, 
thinks little of religion, puts off repentance, refuses 
to make an effort, and dies without conversion, it 
matters nothing that he was poor in this world, it 
matters nothing that he was less daring than the 
rich, it matters not that he promised himself God's 
favour, that he sent for the Priest when death came, 
and received the last Sacraments ; Lazarus too shall 
be buried with Dives in hell, and shall have had his 
consolation neither in this world nor in the world to 
come. 

My brethren, the simple question is, whatever a 
man's rank in life may be, does he in it perform the 
work which God has given him to do ? Now then, let 
me turn to others, of a very different description, and 
let me hear what they will say, when the question 
is asked them ; — why, they will parry it thus ; — 
" You give us no alternative," they will say to me, 
" except that of being a sinner and a Saint. You put 
before us our Lord's pattern, and you spread before 
us the guilt and the ruin of the deliberate trans- 
gressor ; whereas we have no intention of going so 
far one way or the other ; we do not aim at being- 
Saints, but we have no desire at all to be sinners. 
We neither intend to disobey God's will, nor to give 
up our own. Surely there is a middle way, and a 



126 



GOD'S WILL THE END OF LIFE. [Disc. 



safe one, in which God's will and our will may both 
be satisfied. We mean to enjoy both this world 
and the next. We will guard against mortal sin ; 
we are not obliged to guard against venial ; indeed 
it would be endless to attempt it. None but Saints 
do so ; it is the work of a life ; we need have 
nothing else to do. "We are not monks, we are in 
the world, we are in business, we are parents, we 
have families ; we must live for the day. It is a 
consolation to keep from mortal sin ; that we do. 
and it is enough for salvation. It is a great thing 
to keep in God's favour ; what indeed can we desire 
more ? We come at due times to the Sacraments ; 
this is our comfort and our stay ; did we die, we 
should die in grace, and escape the doom of the 
wicked. But if we once attempted to go further, 
wliere should we stop % how will you draw the line 
for us ? the line between mortal and venial sin is 
very distinct ; we understand that ; but do you not 
see that, if we attended to our venial sins, there 
would be just as much reason to attend to one as to 
another ? If we began to repress our anger, why 
not also repress vain glory? why not also guard 
against avarice? why not also keep from falsehoods? 
from gossipping, from idling, from excess in eating ? 
And, after all, without venial sin we never can be, 
unless indeed we have the prerogative of the Mother 
of God, which it would be almost heresy to ascribe 
to any one else. You are not asking us to be con- 
verted ; that we understand ; we are converted, we 



VI.] 



GOD'S WILL THE END OF LIFE. 



127 



were converted a long time a°'o. You bid us aim 
at an indefinite vague something, which is neither 
perfection, nor yet sin, and which, without resulting 
in any tangible advantage, debars us from the 
pleasures, and embarrasses us in the duties, of this 
world." 

This is what you will say ; but your premisses, my 
brethren, are better than your reasoning, and your 
conclusions will not stand. You have a right view 
why God has sent you into the world, viz., in order that 
you may get to heaven ; it is quite true also that you 
would fare well indeed, if you found yourselves there, 
you could desire no better; nor, it is true, can you 
live any time without venial sin. It is true also that 
you are not obliged to aim at being Saints ; it is no 
sin not to aim at perfection. So much is true and 
to the purpose ; but this is no proof that you, with 
such views and feelings as you have expressed, are 
using sufficient exertions even for attaining to 
purgatory. Has your religion any difficulty in it, or is 
it in all respects easy to you ? are you simply taking 
your own pleasure in your mode of living, or do you 
find your pleasure in submitting yourself to God's 
pleasure ? In a word, is your religion a work ? for if 
it be not, it is not religion at all. Here at once, 
before going into your argument, is a proof that it is 
an unsound one, because it brings you to the con- 
clusion, that, whereas Christ came to do a work, and 
His Apostles, and all Saints, and all sinners, you, on 
the contrary, have no work to do, because, forsooth, 



128 



GOD'S WILL THE END OF LIFE. [Disc. 



you are neither a sinner nor a Saint ; or. if you bad 
once a work, at least you have despatched it already, 
and have nothing upon your hands. You have 
attained your salvation, it seems, before your time, 
and have nothing to occupy you. and are detained 
on earth too long. The work-days are over, and 
your perpetual holiday is begun. Did then God 
send you. above all other men. into the world to be 
idle? Is it your mission only to enjoy this world, in 
which you are but pilgrims and as sojourners? are 
you more than sons of Adam. who. by the sweat of 
their face, are to eat bread till they return to the earth 
out of which they are taken ? Unless you have some 
work in hand, unless you are struggling, unless you 
are fjo'htino- -with vourselves, vou are no follower of 
those who " through many tribulations entered into 
the kingdom of God." A fight is the very token of 
a Christian. He is a soldier of Christ ; high or low, 
he is this and nothing else. If yon have triumphed 
over all mortal sin, as you seem to think, then you 
must attack your venial sins ; there is no help for 
it : there is nothing else to do, if you would be a 
soldier of Jesus Christ. But, O simple souls ! to 
think you have gained any triumph at all ! No ; 
you cannot safely be at peace with any. even the 
least malignant, of the foes of God ; if you are at 
peace with venial sins, be certain that in their com- 
pany and under their shadow mortal sins are lurking. 
Mortal sins are the children of venial, which, though 
they be not deadly themselves, yet are prolific of 



VI.] GOD'S WILL THE END OF LIFE. 129 

death. You may think that you have killed the 
giants who had possession of your hearts, and that 
you have nothing to fear, but may sit at rest under 
your vine and under your fig-tree ; but the giants 
will live again, they will rise from the dust, and, 
before you know where you are, you will be taken 
captive and slaughtered by the fierce, powerful, and 
eternal enemies of God. 

The end of a thing is the trial. It was our Lord's 
rejoicing in His last solemn hour, that He had done 
the work for which He was sent. " I have glorified 
Thee on earth," He says in His prayer, "I have 
finished the work which Thou gavest Me to do ; I 
have manifested Thy Name to the men whom Thou 
hast given me out of the world." It was St. Paul's 
consolation also ; " I have fought the good fight, I 
have finished the course, I have kept the faith ; 
henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of justice, 
which the Lord shall render to me in that day, the 
just Judge." Alas, alas ! how different will be our 
view of things when we come to die, or when we have 
passed into eternity, from the dreams and pretences 
with which we beguile ourselves now ! What will 
Babel do for us then 1 will it rescue our souls from 
the purgatory, or the hell, to which it sends them % 
If we were created, it was that we might serve God ; 
if we have His gifts, it is that we may glorify Him ; 
if we have a conscience, it is that we may obey it ; 
if we have the prospect of heaven, it is that we may 
keep it before us ; if we have light, that we may 

K 



130 



GOD 3 S WILL THE END OF LIFE. 



[Disc. 



follow it ; if we have grace, that we may save 
ourselves by means of it. Alas, alas, for those who 
die without fulfilling their mission ! who were called 
to be holy, and lived in sin ; who were called to 
worship Christ, and who plunged into this giddy 
and unbelieving world ; who were called to fight, 
and who remained idle ; who were called to be 
Catholics, and who remained in the religion of their 
birth ! Alas for those, who have had gifts and 
talents, and have not used, or misused, or abused 
them ; who have had wealth, and have spent it on 
themselves ; who have had abilities, and have advo- 
cated what was sin, or ridiculed what was true, or 
scattered doubts against what was sacred ; who have 
had leisure, and have wasted it on wicked com- 
panions, or evil books, or foolish amusements ! Alas 
for those of whom the best that can be said is, that 
they are harmless and naturally blameless, while 
they never have attempted to cleanse their hearts or 
live in God's sight ! 

The world goes on from age to age, but the holy 
Angels and blessed Saints are always crying alas, 
alas, and woe, woe, over the loss of vocations, and 
the disappointment of hopes, and the scorn of God's 
love, and the ruin of souls. One generation suc- 
ceeds another, and whenever they look down upon 
earth from their golden thrones, they see scarcely 
any thing but a multitude of guardian spirits, down- 
cast and sad, each following his own charge, in 
anxiety, or in terror, or in despair, vainly endea- 



VI.] 



GOD'S WILL THE END OF LTFE. 



131 



vouring to shield him from the enemy, and failing 
because he will not be shielded. Times come and 
go, and man will not believe, that that is to be 
which is not yet, or that what is now only con- 
tinues for a season, and is not eternity. The end 
is the trial ; the world passes ; it is but a pageant 
and a scene, the lofty palace crumbles, the busy 
city is mute, the ships of Tarshish have sped away. 
On the heart and flesh death comes; the veil is 
breaking. Departing soul, how hast thou used thy 
talents, thy opportunities, the light poured around 
thee, the warnings given thee, the grace inspired 
into thee ? O my Lord and Saviour, support me in 
that hour in the strong arms of Thy Sacraments, 
and by the fresh fragrance of Thy consolations. 
Let the absolving words be said over me, and the 
holy oil sign and seal me, and Thy own Body be my 
food, and Thy Blood my sprinkling ; and let sweet 
Mary breathe on me, and my Angel whisper peace 
to me, and my glorious Saints, and my own dear 
Father smile on me ; that in them all, and through 
them all, I may receive the gift of perseverance, and 
die, as I desire to live, in Thy faith, in Thy Church, 
in Thy service, and in Thy love. 



k 2 



DISCOURSE VII 



PERSEVERANCE IN GRACE. 



There is no truth, my brethren, which Holy Church 
is more earnest in impressing upon us than that our 
salvation from first to last is the gift of God. It is 
true indeed that we merit eternal life by our works 
of obedience ; but that those works are meritorious 
of such a reward, tliis takes place, not from their 
intrinsic worth, but from the free appointment and 
bountiful promise of God ; and that we are able to 
do them at all, is the simple result of His grace. 
That we are justified is of His grace ; that we have 
the dispositions for justification is of His grace ; that 
we are able to do good works when justified is of 
His grace ; and that we persevere in those good 
works is of His grace. Not only do we actually 
depend on His power from first to last, but our 
destinies depend on His sovereign pleasure and in- 
scrutable counsel. He holds the arbitration of our 



PERSEVERANCE IN GRACE. 



133 



future in His hands ; without an act of His will, 
independent of ours, we should not have been 
brought into the grace of the Catholic Church ; 
and without a further act of His will, though we 
are now members of it, we shall not be brought 
on to the glory of the kingdom of Heaven. Though 
a soul justified can merit eternal life, yet neither 
can it merit to be justified, nor can it merit to re- 
main justified to the end ; not only is a state of 
grace the condition and the life of all merit, but 
grace brings us into that state of grace, and grace 
continues us in it ; and thus, as I began by saying, 
our salvation from first to last is the gift of God. 

AH this is perfectly consistent with our free will, 
because Holy Church teaches also that we are 
really free and responsible. Every one upon earth 
might, without any verbal evasion, be saved, as far 
as God's assistances are concerned. Every man 
born of Adam's seed, simply and truly, might save 
himself, if he would, and might will to save himself ; 
for grace is given to every one enough for this. 
Why it is, however, that in spite of this real 
freedom of man's will, our salvation still depends so 
absolutely on God's good pleasure, is unrevealed ; 
divines have devised various explanations of it, 
which have severally been received by some, and 
not received by others, but which do not concern us 
now. How man is able fully and entirely to do his 
will, yet God accomplishes His own supreme will 
also, is hidden from us, as it is hidden from us how 



134 



PERSEVERANCE IN GRACE. 



[Disc. 



God created out of nothing, -or how He foresees the 
future ; it is one of those " hidden things which 
belong unto the Lord our God;" but "what are 
revealed," as the inspired writer goes on to say, " are 
for us and our children even for everlasting;" and 
those revealed truths are, on the one hand, that 
our salvation depends on ourselves, on the other, 
that it depends on God. Did we not depend on our- 
selves, we should become careless and reckless, 
nothing we did or did not do having any bearing 
on our salvation ; did we not depend on God, we 
should be presumptuous and self-sufficient. I began 
by telling you, my brethren, and I shall proceed 
in what is to come, more distinctly to tell you, that 
you depend upon God ; but such admonitions imply 
also your dependence upon yourselves ; for, did not 
your salvation in some sufficient sense depend on 
yourselves, what would be the use of appealing to 
you not to forget your dependence on God ? It is, 
because you have so great a share in your own 
salvation, that it avails, that it is pertinent, to speak 
to you of God's part in it. 

God is the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and 
the ending, as of all things, so of our salvation. 
We should have lived and died every one of us in 
the absence of all saving knowledge of Him, but for 
a gift which we could not do any thing ourselves to 
secure, had we lived ever so well, — but for His 
grace ; and now that we have known Him, and have 
been cleansed from our sin by Him, it is quite 



VII.] 



PERSEVERANCE IN GRACE. 



135 



certain that we cannot do any thing, even with the 
help of grace, to purchase for ourselves perseverance 
in justice and sanctity, though we live ever so well. 
His grace begins the work, His grace also finishes 
it; and now I am going to speak to you of 
His finishing it; I mean of the necessity under 
which we lie of His finishing it; else it will never 
be finished, or rather will be reversed ; I am going 
to speak to you of the gift of perseverance in grace, 
its extreme preciousness, and our utter hopelessness, 
in spite of all that we are, without it. 

It is this gift which our Lord speaks of when He 
prays His Father for His disciples, before He 
departs from them : " Holy Father, keep in Thy 

Name those whom Thou hast given Me ; I ask 

not that Thou take them out of the world, but that 
Thou preserve them from evil." And St. Paul 
intends it when he declares to the Philippians that 
" He who had begun a good work " in His disciples, 
" would perfect it unto the day of Christ Jesus." St. 
Peter too, when he says in like manner, that " God, 
who had called his brethren into His eternal glory, 
would perfect, confirm, and consolidate them." 
And so the Prophet in the Psalms prays that God 
would "perfect his walking in His paths, that his 
steps might not be moved ; " and the Prophet 
Jeremias declares in God's Name, " 1 will put My 
fear in their hearts, that they draw not back from 
Me." In these and many other passages the 
blessing spoken of is the gift of perseverance, and 



136 



PERSEVERANCE IN GRACE. 



[Disc. 



now I will tell you more distinctly how and why it 

is necessary. 

This is what we find to be the case, not only in 
matters of religion, but of this world, viz., that, let a 
person do a thing ever so well, the chance is that he 
will not be able to do it a number of times running 
without a mistake. Let a person be ever so good 
an accountant, he will add up a sum wrongly now 
and then, though you could not guess beforehand 
when or why he was to fail. Let him get by heart 
a number of lines ever so perfectly, and say them 
accurately over, yet it does not follow that he will 
say them a dozen times and be accurate throughout. 
So it is with our religious duties ; we may be able 
to keep from every sin in particular, as the tempta- 
tion comes, but this does not hinder its being certain 
that we shall not in fact keep from all sins, though 
that " all " is made up of those particular sins. This 
is how the greatest Saints come to commit venial 
sins, though they have grace sufficient to keep 
them from any venial sin whatever. It is the result 
of human frailty ; nothing could keep the Saints 
from such falls, light as they are, but a special pre- 
rogative, and this, the Church teaches us, has been 
granted to the Blessed Virgin, and apparently to 
her alone. Now venial sins do not separate from 
God, and are permitted by the Giver of all grace for 
a good purpose, to humble us, and to give us an 
incentive to works of penance. No exemption from 
venial sin is given us, because it is not necessary for 



VII.] 



PERSEVERANCE IN GRACE. 



137 



us to be exempted : on the other hand it is most ne- 
cessary that we should be preserved from mortal sins, 
yet here too that very difficulty besets us in our war- 
fare with them which meets us in the case of venial. 
Here too, though a man may have grace sufficient to 
keep him clear of all mortal sins whatever, taken 
one by one, we may prophesy surely, that the hour 
will come, sooner or later, when he will neglect and 
baffle that grace, unless he has some further gift 
bestowed on him to guard him against himself. He 
needs grace to use grace, he needs something over 
and above, to secure his faithfulness to what he has 
already. And he needs it imperatively, for since 
one mortal sin separates from God, he is in im- 
mediate risk of his salvation, if he has it not. This 
additional gift is called the gift of perseverance ; 
and it consists in an ever watchful superintendence 
of us, on the part of our All-merciful Lord, removing 
temptations which He sees will be fatal to us, suc- 
couring us at those times when we are in particular 
peril, whether from our negligence or other cause, 
and ordering the course of our life so, that we may 
die when we are in a state of grace. And, since it 
is so simply necessary for us, God grants it to us ; 
nay, did He not, no one could be saved ; He grants 
it to us, though He does not grant even to Saints 
the prerogative of avoiding every venial sin ; He 
grants it, out of His bounty, to our prayers, though 
we cannot merit it by any thing we do or say to 
Him, even with the aid of His grace. 



138 



PERSEVERANCE IN GRACE. [Disc. 



What a lesson of humility and watchfulness have 
we in this doctrine as now explained ! It is one 
ground of humiliation, that, do what we will, strive 
as we will, we cannot escape from venial sin while 
we are on earth. Though the aids which God gives 
us are sufficient to enable us to live without sin, yet 
our infirmity of will and of attention is a match for 
them, and we do not do in fact that which we might 
do. And again, what is not only humbling, but 
even frightful and appalling, we are in danger of 
mortal sin as well as in certainty of venial ; and the 
only reason why we are not in certainty of mortal 
is, that an extraordinary gift is given to those who 
supplicate for it, to secure them from mortal, though 
no such gift is given to secure them from venial. 
In spite of the presence of grace in our souls, in 
spite of the actual assistances given us, we owe any 
hope we have of heaven, not to that inward grace 
simply, nor to those assistances, but to a supple- 
mentary mercy which protects us against ourselves, 
rescues us from occasions of sin, strengthens us in 
our hour of danger, and ends our days at that very 
time, perhaps cuts short our life in order to secure a 
time, when no mortal sin has separated us from God. 
Nothing we are, nothing we do, is any guarantee to 
us that this supplementary mercy has been accorded 
to us ; we cannot know till the end ; all we know 
is, that God has helped us hitherto, and we trust 
He will help us still. But yet the experience of 
what He has already done is no promise that He 



VII.] PERSEVERANCE IN GRACE. 



139 



will do more; our present religiousness need not be 
the consequence of the gift of perseverance as be- 
stowed upon us ; it nfay have been intended merely 
to prompt and enable us to pray earnestly and con- 
tinually for that gift. There are men who, had they 
died at a particular time, would have died the death 
of Saints, and who lived to fall. They lived on here 
to die eternally. O dreadful thought ! Never be 
you offended, my brethren, or overwhelmed, when 
you find the good and gentle, or the zealous and 
useful, cut down and taken off in the midst of their 
course : it is hard to bear, but who knows but he is 
taken away a facie malitice, " from the presence of 
evil," from the evil to come ? " He was taken 
away," as the Wise Man says, "lest wickedness 
should alter his understanding, or deceit beguile his 
soul. For the bewitching of vanity obscureth good 
things, and the wandering of concupiscence over- 
turned the innocent mind. Being made perfect in 
a short space, he fulfilled a long time. For his soul 
pleased God ; therefore He hastened to bring him 
out of the midst of iniquities. But the people see 
this, and understand not, nor lay such things in their 
hearts ; that the grace of God and His mercy is with 
His Saints, and that He hath respect to His chosen." 

Bad is it to bear, when such a one is taken away ; 
cruel to his friends, sad even to strangers, and a sur- 
prise to the world ; but O, how much better, how 
happy so to die, instead of being reserved to sin ! 
You may wonder how sin was possible in him, my 



140 



PERSEVERANCE IN GRACE. 



[Disc. 



brethren ; he had so many graces, he had lived and 
matured in them so long ; he had overcome so many 
temptations. He had struck his roots deeply, and 
spread abroad his branches on high. One grace 
grew out of another ; and all things in him were 
double one against another. He seemed from the 
very completeness of his sanctity, which encircled 
him on every side, to defy assault and to be proof 
against impression. He, if any one, could have 
said with the proud Church in the Apocalypse, " I 
am wealthy and enriched, and have need of nothing ;" 
that he had started well, seemed a reason why he 
should go on ; strength would lead to strength, and 
merit to merit ; as a flame increases and sweeps 
along and round about, as soon as, and for the very 
reason that it is once kindled, so he promised him- 
self a destiny of greater triumphs as time proceeded. 
He was fit to scale Heaven by an inherent power, 
which, though at first of grace, yet, when once given, 
became not of grace, but of claim for more grace, as 
by the action of a law, and the process of a series, in 
which grace and merit alternated, man meriting and 
meriting, and the God of grace being forced to give 
and give, if He would be true to His promise. 
Thus we might look at him, and think we had 
already in our hands all the data of a great and glo- 
rious and infallible conclusion, and deny that a re- 
verse or a fall Avas possible. My brethren, there 
was once an Eastern king, in his day the richest of 
men; and a Grecian sage came to visit him, and, 



VII.] 



PERSEVERANCE IN GRACE. 



141 



having seen all his glory and his majesty, was 
pressed by this poor child of vanity to say whether 
he was not the happiest of men. To whom the wise 
man did but reply, that he should wait till he saw 
the end. So it is as regards spiritual wealth ; since 
Almighty God, in spite of His ample promises, and 
His faithful abidance to them, has not put out of 
His own hands the issues of life and death ; the end 
comes from Him as well as the beginning. When 
He has once given grace, He has not therefore 
simply made over to the creature his own salvation. 
The creature can merit much ; but as he could not 
merit the grace of conversion, neither can he merit 
the gift of perseverance. From first to last he is 
dependent on Him who made him ; he cannot be 
extortionate with Him, he cannot turn His bounty 
to the prejudice of the Bountiful ; he may not exalt 
himself, he dare not presume, but, "if he thinketh 
he standeth, let him take heed lest he fall." He 
must watch and pray, he must fear and tremble, he 
must " chastise his body and bring it into subjection, 
lest, after he has preached to others, he himself 
should be reprobate." 

But I need not go to heathen history for an in- 
stance in point ; Scripture furnishes one a thousand 
times more apposite and more impressive. Who 
was so variously gifted, so inwardly endowed, so 
laden with external blessings, as Solomon ? on whom 
are lavished, as on him, the titles and the glories of 
the Eternal Son, God and man ? The only aspect 



142 PERSEVERANCE IN GRACE. [Disc. 

of Christ's adorable Person, which he does not repre- 
sent, does but bring out to us the peculiarity of his 
privileges. He does not symbolize Christ's sufferings ; 
he was neither a Priest, nor like David his father, 
had he been a man of strife, and toil, and blood. 
Every thing which betokens mortality, every thing 
which savours of the fall, is excluded from our idea 
of Solomon. He is as if an ideal of perfection ; the 
king of peace, the builder of the temple, the father 
of a happy people, the heir of an empire, the won- 
der of all nations ; a prince, yet a sage ; palace-bred, 
yet taught in the schools ; a student, yet a man of 
the world ; deeply read in human nature, yet learned 
too in animals and plants. He has the crown with- 
out the cross, peace without war, experience without 
suffering, and this not in the mere way of men, or 
from the general providence of God, but from His 
very hands, by a particular designation, and as the 
result of inspiration. He obtained it when young, 
and where shall we find any thing so touching in the 
whole of Scripture as the circumstances of the 
grant? who shall accuse him of want of religious 
fear and true love, whose dawning is so beautiful? 
When the Almighty appeared to him in a dream on 
his coming to the throne and said, "Ask what I 
shall give thee;" "O Lord God," he made answer, 
" Thou hast made Thy servant king instead of David 
my father; and I am but a child, and know not 
how to go out and come in. And Thy servant is in 
the midst of the people which Thou hast chosen, an 



VIL] 



PERSEVERANCE IN GRACE. 



143 



immense people, which cannot be numbered nor 
counted for multitude." Accordingly, he asked for 
nothing else but the gift of wisdom to enable him 
to govern his people well ; and as his reward for so 
excellent a petition, he received, not only the wisdom 
for which he had asked, but those other gifts for 
which he had asked not : " And the Lord said unto 
Solomon, Because thou hast asked this thing, and 
hast not asked for thyself long life, nor riches, nor 
the lives of thine enemies, but hast asked for thyself 
wisdom to discern judgment, behold, I have done to 
thee according to thy words, and I have given to 
thee a wise and understanding heart, so that none 
has been like thee before thee, nor shall rise after 
thee. Yea, and the things also, which thou didst 
not ask, I have given to thee, to wit, riches and 
glory, so that none has been like to thee among the 
kings in all days heretofore." 

Rare inauguration to his greatness ! the most 
splendid of monarchs owes nothing to injustice, or 
to cruelty, or to violence, or to treachery, nothing to 
human art or to human arm, that he is so powerful, so 
famous, and so wise ; it is a divine gift which endued 
him within, which clothed him without. What was 
wanting to his blessedness? seeking God in his youth, 
growing up year after year in sanctity, fortifying his 
faith by wisdom, and his obedience by experience, and 
his aspirations by habit, what shall he not be in the 
next world, who is so glorious in this % He is a Saint 
ready made ; he is in his youth what others are in 



144 



PERSEVERANCE IN GRACE. 



[Disc. 



their age ; he is fit for heaven ere others begin the 
way heavenward : why should he delay % what lacks 
he yet? w T hy tarry the wheels of his chariot? why 
does he remain on earth, for a good old age, when 
he has already won his crown, and may be carried 
away in a happy youth, and be securely taken into 
God's keeping, not with the common throng of holy 
souls, but like Enoch and Elias, up on high, in some 
fit secret paradise till the day of redemption ? Alas ! 
he remains on earth to show us that there might be 
one thing lacking amidst that multitude of graces ; 
to show that though there be all faith, all hope, all 
love, all wisdom ; that though there be an exube- 
rance of merits, it is all a vanity, it is only a woe in 
the event if one gift be wanting, — the gift of perse- 
verance ! He was in his youth, what others hardly 
are in age ; well were it, had he been in his end, 
what the feeblest of God's servants is in his begin- 
ning ! 

His great father, whose sanctity had been wrought 
into him by many a fight with Satan, and who knew 
how difficult it was to persevere, when his death 
drew near, as if in prophecy rather than in prayer, 
had spoken thus of and to his son and his people ; 
" God said to me, Thou shalt not build a house to 
My name, because thou art a man of war, and hast 
shed blood. Solomon, thy son, shall build My house 
and My courts ; for I have chosen him to Me for a 
son, and I will be to him a father; and I will 
establish his kingdom even for ever, if he shall 



VII.] PERSEVERANCE IN GRACE. 145 

persevere to do My precepts and judgments, as at 
this day. And thou, Solomon, my son, know the 
God of thy father, and serve Him with a perfect 
heart and a willing mind, for if thou shalt forsake 
Him, He will cast thee off for ever." And then, 
when he had collected together the precious materials 
for that house which he himself was not to build, 
and was resigning the kingdom to his son, " I know," 
he said, " O my God, that Thou provest hearts, and 
lovest simplicity, wherefore have I in the simplicity 
of my heart and with joy offered to Thee all these 
things ; and Thy people too, which are present here, 
have I seen with great joy to offer to Thee their gifts. 
O Lord God of Abraham, and Isaac, and Israel, our 
fathers, keep for ever this will of their hearts, and 
let this mind remain always for the worship of 
Thee. And to Solomon also, my son, give a perfect 
heart, that he may keep Thy commandments, and 
Thy testimonies, and Thy ceremonies, and do all 
things, and build the building for the which I have 
provided the charges." Such had been the dim 
foreboding of his father, fearing perhaps for his son 
from the very abundance of that son's prosperity. 
And in truth, it is not good for man to live in so 
cloudless a splendour, and so unchequered a heaven. 
There is a moral in the history, that he, who pre- 
figured the coming Saviour in all His offices but that 
of suffering, should fall ; that the King and the Pro- 
phet, who was neither Priest nor Warrior, should 
come short ; — thereby to show that penance is the 

L 



146 



PERSEVERANCE IN GRACE. 



[Disc. 



only sure mother of love. " They who sow in tears 
shall reap in exultation ;" but Solomon, like the 
flowers of the field which are so beautiful, but are 
cast into the oven, so he too, with all his glory, 
retained not his comeliness, and withered in his 
place. He who was wisest became as the most 
brutish ; he who was the most devout was lifted up 
and fell ; he who wrote the Song of Songs became 
the slave and the prey of vile affections. "King 
Solomon loved many strange women, unto them he 
clave with the most burning love. And when he 
was now old, his heart was depraved by women, 
that he followed other gods, Astarte goddess of the 
Sidonians, and Moloch the idol of the Ammonites ; 
and so did he for all his strange wives, who did 
burn incense and sacrifice unto their gods/' O 
what a contrast between that grey-headed apostate, 
laden with years and with sins, bowing down to 
women and to idols, and the bright and youthful 
form, standing, on the day of Dedication* in the 
temple he had built, as a mediator between God 
and His people, when he acknowledged so simply, 
so fervently, God's mercies and His faithfulness, and 
prayed that He would "incline their hearts unto 
Himself, that they might walk in all His ways and 
keep His commandments, and His ceremonies, and 
His judgments, whatever He had commanded to 
their fathers !" 

Well were it for us, my dear brethren, were it 
only kings and prophets and sages, and other rare 



VIL] 



PERSEVERANCE IN GRACE. 



147 



creations of God's grace, to whom this warning 
applied ; but it applies to all of us. It is true 
indeed that the holier a soul is, and the higher in 
the kingdom of heaven, so much the greater need 
has he to look carefully to his footing lest he 
stumble and be lost ; and a deep conviction of this 
necessity has been the sole preservative of the 
Saints. Had they not feared to fall, they never 
would have persevered. Hence, like St. Paul, they 
are always full of their sin and their peril. You 
would think them the most polluted of sinners and 
the most unstable of penitents. Such was the 
blessed Martyr Ignatius, who when on his way to 
his death, said, " Now I begin to be Christ's dis- 
ciple." Such was the great Basil, who was ever 
ascribing the calamities of the Church and his 
country to the wrath of Heaven upon his own sins. 
Such was St. Gregory, who submitted to his eleva- 
tion to the Popedom, as if it was his spiritual death. 
Such too was my own dear Father St. Philip, who 
was ever showing, in the midst of the gifts he re- 
ceived from God, the anxiety and jealousy with 
which he regarded himself and his prospects. " Every 
day," says his biographer, " he used to make a pro- 
test to God with the Blessed Sacrament in his 
hand, saying, 4 Lord, beware of me to-day, lest I 
should betray Thee, and do Thee all the mischief in 
the world.' " At other times he would say, " The 
wound in Christ's side is large, but, if God did not 
guard me, I should make it larger." In his last 

l 2 > 



148 



PERSEVERANCE IN GRACE. 



[Disc. 



illness, " Lord, if I recover, so far as I am concerned, 
I shall do more evil than ever, because I have 
promised so many times before to change my life, 
and have not kept my word, so that I despair of 
myself." He would shed abundance of tears and 
say, " I have never done one good action." When 
he saw young persons, he began considering how 
much time they had before them to do good in, and 
said, " O happy you ! happy you ! n He often 
said, " I am past hope," and, when urged, he added, 
"but I trust in God." When a penitent of his 
called him a Saint, he turned to her with a face full 
of anger, and said, " Begone with you, I am a devil, 
not a Saint." When another said to him, " Father, 
a temptation has come to me to think you are not 
what the world takes you for," he answered, " Be 
sure of this, that I am a man like my neighbours, 
and nothing more." 

What a reflection on ordinary Christians is the 

language of Saints about themselves ! Multitudes 

© © 

indeed live in mortal sin, and have no concern at all 
about present, past, or future. But even those who 
go so far as to come to the Sacraments, never 
trouble themselves with the thought of perseverance. 
They seem to take it as a matter of course that, if 
they are in a good state of mind at present, it will 
continue. Perhaps they have been converted from 
a sinful life, and are very different from what they 
have been. They feel the comfort of the change, 
they feel the peace and satisfaction of a cleansed 



yn.] 



PERSEVERANCE IN GRACE. 



149 



conscience, but they are so taken up with that 
comfort and peace, that they rest in it and become 
secure. They do not guard against temptation, 
or pray for support under it ; it does not occur to 
them to consider that, as they have changed from 
sin to religion, so they may, if so be, change back 
again from religion to sin. They do not realize 
enough their continual dependence on God ; some 
temptation comes on them, or some vicissitude of 
life, they are surprised, they fall, and perhaps they 
never recover. 

What a scene is this life, a scene of almost uni- 
versal disappointment ! of springs blighted, of har- 
vests beaten down by the storm, when they should 
have been gathered into the storehouses ! of tardy and 
imperfect repentances, when there is nothing else to 
be done, and unsatisfactory resolves and poor efforts, 
when the end of life is come ! O my dear children, 
how subdued our rejoicing in you is, even when you 
are walking well and hopefully ! how anxious are 
we for you, even when you are cheerful from the 
lightness of your conscience and the sincerity of 
your hearts ! how we sigh when we give thanks for 
you, and tremble even while we rejoice in hearing 
your confessions and absolving you ! And why ? 
because we know how great and high is the gift of 
perseverance. When Hazael came with his presents 
to the prophet Eliseus, the man of God stood over 
against him, in silence, and in bitter thought, till at 
last the blood mounted up into his countenance, and 



150 



PERSEVERANCE IN GRACE. 



[Disc. 



he wept. He wept, to Hazael's surprise, at the 
prospect of the dreadful butcheries which the soldier 
before him, little as he expected it, was to perpe- 
trate when he succeeded to the throne of Syria. We, 
O honest and cheerful hearts, are not prophets as 
Eliseus, nor are you destined to high estate and 
extraordinary temptations as Hazael ; but still the 
tears which the man of God shed, what if some 
Angel should be shedding the like over any of 
you, what time you are receiving pardon and grace 
from the voice and hand of the Priests of Christ ! 
O how many are there who pass well and hopefully 
through what seem to be their most critical years, 
and fall just when one might consider them beyond 
danger ! How many are good youths, yet careless 
men ; blameless from fifteen to twenty, yet captives 
to habits of sin between twenty and thirty ! How 
many persevere till they marry, and then perhaps 
get inextricably entangled in the cares or pleasures 
of this world, and give up attendance on the Sacra- 
ments, and other holy practices, which they have 
hitherto observed ! how many pass through their 
married life well, but lapse into sin on the death of 
wife or husband ! How many are there who by 
mere change of place lose their religious habits, and 
become first careless and then shameless ! How 
many upon one sin fall into remorse, disgust of 
themselves, and recklessness, avoid the Confessional 
from shame and despair, and live on burthened with 
the custody of some miserable secret ! How many 



VII.] 



PERSEVERANCE IN GRACE. 



151 



fall into trouble, lose their spirit and heart, shut 
themselves up in themselves, and feel a sort of 
aversion to religion, when religion would be all in all 
to them ! How many come to some great pros- 
perity, and, carried away by it, " wax fat and kick, 
and leave God their Maker, and recede from God 
their Saviour ! " How many fall into lukewarmness 
almost like death, after their first fervour ! How 
many lose the graces begun in them by self- 
confidence and arrogant impetuosity ! How many, 
who under God's guidance were making right for 
the Catholic Church, suddenly turn short and miss, 
" like a crooked bow ! " How many, when led 
forward by God's unmerited grace, are influenced by 
the persuasions of relatives or the inducements of 
station or of wealth, and become sceptics or infidels 
when they might have almost died in the odour of 
sanctity ! How many, whose contrition once gained 
for them the grace of justification, by refusing to go 
forward, have gone backwards, though they main- 
tain a semblance of what they once were, by means 
of the mere natural habits which supernatural grace 
had formed within them ! What a miserable wreck 
is the world, hopes without substances, promises 
without fulfilment, repentance without amendment, 
blossom without fruit, continuance and progress 
without perseverance ! 

O, my dearest children, let me not depress you ; 
it is your duty, your privilege to rejoice; I would 
not frighten you more than it is good for you to be 
frightened. Some of you will take it too much to 



152 



PERSEVERANCE IN GRACE. 



[Disc. 



heart, and will fret Yourselves unduly, as I fear. I 
do not wish to sadden you. but to make you 
cautious ; doubt not you will be led on. fear not to 
fall, provided you do but fear a fall. Fearing 
will secure you from what you fear. Only, ' ; be 
sober, be vigilant," as St. Peter says, beware of 
taking satisfaction in what you are, understand that 
the only way to avoid falling back is to press for- 
ward. Dread all occasions of sin, get a habit of 
shrinking from the beginnings of temptation. Never 
speak confidently about yourselves, nor contemptu- 
ously of the religiousness of others, nor liohtlv of 
sacred things; guard your eyes, guard the first 
springs of thought, be jealous of yourselves when 
alone, neglect not your daily prayers ; above all, 
pray specially and continually for the gift of perse- 
verance. Come to Mass as often as you can, visit 
the Blessed Sacrament, make frequent acts of faith 
and love, and try to live in the Presence of God. 
And further still, interest our Blessed Lady in 
your success ; pray to her earnestly for it ; she 
can do more for you than any one else. Pray 
her by the pain she suffered, when the sharp sword 
went through her, pray her, by her own perse- 
verance, which was in her the gift of the same 
God of whom you ask it for yourselves. God will 
not refuse you, He will not refuse her, if you have 
recourse to her succour. It will be a blessed thing, 
in your last hour, when flesh and heart are failing, 
in midst of the pain, the weariness, the restlessness, 
the prostration of strength, the exhaustion of spirits. 



VII.] 



PERSEVERANCE IN GRACE. 



153 



which then will be your portion, it will be blessed 
indeed to have her at your side, more tender than 
a mother, to nurse you and to whisper peace. It 
will be most blessed, when the evil one is making 
his last effort, when he is coming on you in his 
might to pluck you away from your Father's hand, 
if he can ; it will be blessed indeed if Jesus, Joseph, 
and Mary are there, waitiDg to shield you from his 
assaults and to receive your soul. If they are 
there, all is there ; Angels are there, Saints are 
there, heaven is there, heaven is begun in you, 
and the devil has no part in you. That dread 
day may be sooner or later, you may be taken 
away young, you may live to fourscore, you may 
die in your bed, you may die in the open field, 
but if Mary intercedes for you, that day will find 
you watching and ready. All things will be fixed 
to secure your salvation ; all dangers will be fore- 
seen, all obstacles removed, all aids provided. The 
hour will come, and in a moment you will be trans- 
lated beyond fear and risk, you will be translated 
into a new state where sin is not, nor ignorance 
of the future, but perfect faith and serene joy, and 
assurance and love everlasting. 

Jesu, Joseph, and Mary, I offer you my soul and 
my heart ! 

Jesu, Joseph, and Mary, assist me in my last 
agony ! 

Jesu, Joseph, and Mary, let me breathe out my 
soul with you in peace ! 



DISCOURSE VIII 



NATURE AND GRACE. 



In the Parable of the Good Shepherd our Lord 
sets before us a dispensation or state of things, 
which is very strange in the eyes of the world. 
He speaks of mankind as consisting of two bodies, 
distinct from each other, divided by as real a line 
of demarcation as the fence which incloses the 
sheepfold. " I am the Door," He says, " by Me if 
any man shall have entered in, he shall be saved : 
and he shall go in and go out, and shall find pas- 
tures. My sheep hear My voice, and I know them, 
and they follow Me, and I give them life everlast- 
ing ; and they shall not perish for ever, and no man 
shall snatch them out of My Hand." And in His 
last prayer for His disciples to His Eternal Father, 
He says, " I have manifested Thy Name to the men 
whom Thou hast given Me out of the world. 
Thine they were, and Thou hast given them to 



NATURE AND GRACE. 



155 



Me, and they have kept Thy word. I ask for 
them, I ask not for the world, but for those whom 
Thou hast given Me, for they are Thine. Holy 
Father, keep them in Thy Name whom Thou hast 
given Me, that they may be one, as We also." 
Nor are these passages solitary or singular ; " Fear 
not, little flock," He says in another Gospel, " for 
it hath pleased your Father to give you a kingdom." 
And again, " I thank Thee, Father, Lord of heaven 
and earth, that Thou hast hid these things from the 
wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto 
little ones;" and again, ' 6 How narrow is the gate, 
and strait the way which leadeth to life, and few 
there are, who find it ! " St. Paul repeats and 
insists on this doctrine of his Lord, " Ye were once 
darkness, but now are light in the Lord ;" " He 
hath delivered us from the power of darkness, and 
hath translated us into the kingdom of the Son of 
His love." And St. John, " Greater is He that is 
in you than he that is in the world. They are of the 
world we are of God." Thus there are two parties 
on this earth, and two only, if we view men in their 
religious aspect ; those, the few, who hear Christ's 
words and follow Him, who are in the light, and 
walk in the narrow way, and have the promise of 
heaven ; and those, on the other hand, who are the 
many, for whom Christ prays not, though He has 
died for them, who are wise and prudent in their 
own eyes, who are possessed by the evil one, and are 
subject to his rule. 



156 



NATURE AND GRACE. 



[Disc. 



And such is the view taken of mankind, as by 
their Maker and Redeemer, so also by the small 
company in whom He lives and is glorified ; but far 
differently does the larger body, the world itself, 
look upon mankind at large, upon its own vast 
multitudes, and upon those whom God has taken 
for His own special inheritance. It considers that 
all men are pretty much on a level, or that, differ 
though they may, they differ by such fine shades 
from each other, that it is impossible, because it 
would be untrue and unjust, to divide them into 
two bodies, or to divide them at all. Each man is 
like himself and no one else ; each man has his own 
opinions, his own rule of faith and conduct, his own 
worship ; if a number join together in a religious 
form, this is an accident, for the sake of convenience ; 
each is complete in himself; religion is simply a 
personal concern ; there is no such thing really as a 
common or joint religion, that is, one in which a 
number of men, strictly speaking, partake ; it is all 
matter of private judgment. Hence, as men some- 
times proceed even to avow, there is no such thing 
as a true religion or a false ; that is true to each, 
which each sincerely believes to be true ; and what is 
true to one, is not true to his neighbour. There are 
no special doctrines necessary to be believed in order 
to salvation ; it is not very difficult to be saved ; and 
most men may take it for granted that they shall be 
saved. All men are in God's favour, except so far 
as, and while, they fall into sin ; but when the sin is 



VIII.] 



NATURE AND GRACE. 



157 



over, they get back into His favour again, naturally 
and as a thing of course, no one knows how, owing 
to God's infinite indulgence, unless indeed they 
persevere and die in a course of sin, and perhaps even 
then. There is no such place as hell, or at least 
punishment is not eternal. Predestination, election, 
grace, perseverance, faith, sanctity, unbelief, and re- 
probation are strange, and, as they think, very false 
ideas. This is the cast of opinion of men in general, 
in proportion as they exercise their minds on the 
subject of religion, and think for themselves ; and 
if in any respect they depart from the easy and 
secure temper of mind which it expresses, it is to the 
disadvantage of those who presume to take the 
contrary view, that is, who take the view set forth 
by Christ and His Apostles. Hence they are 
commonly severe on the very persons whom God 
acknowledges as His, and is training heavenward, I 
mean Catholics, who are the witnesses and preachers 
of these awful doctrines of grace, which condemn 
the world and which the world holds in such 
abhorrence. 

In truth the world does not know of the existence 
of grace ; nor is it wonderful, for it is ever contented 
with itself, and has never turned to account the 
supernatural aids bestowed upon it. Its highest 
idea of man lies in the order of nature ; its pattern 
man is the natural man ; it thinks it wrong to be 
any' thing else than a natural man. It sees that 
nature has a number of tendencies, inclinations, and 



158 



NATURE AND GRACE. 



[Disc. 



passions ; and because they are in nature, it thinks 
that each of them may be indulged for its own sake, 
so far as it does no harm to others, or to a person's 
bodily, mental, and temporal well-being. It con- 
siders that want of moderation, or excess, is the very 
definition of sin, if it goes so far as to recognize that 
word. It thinks that he is the perfect man who 
eats, and drinks, and sleeps, and walks, and diverts 
himself, and studies, and writes, and attends to 
religion, in moderation. The devotional feeling, 
and the intellect, and the flesh, have each its claim, 
and each must have play, if the Creator is to be 
duly honoured. It does not understand, it will not 
admit, that impulses and propensities, which are 
found in our nature, as God created it, may yet, if 
allowed, become sins, on the ground that He has 
subjected them to higher principles, whether in 
our nature, or superadded to our nature. Hence it 
is very slow to believe evil thoughts to be really 
displeasing to God, and to incur punishment. Works, 
tangible actions, which are seen and which have 
influence, it will allow to be wrong ; but it is blind 
to the malice of thoughts, of imaginations, of wishes, 
and of words. It will not believe even that deeds 
are sinful, or that they are more than reprehensible, 
if they are private and personal. Because the 
wild emotions of wrath, hatred, desire, greediness, 
cruelty, are no sin in the brute creation, which has 
neither the means nor the command to repress 
them, therefore they are no sins in a being who has 



VIII.] 



NATURE AND GRACE. 



J 59 



a diviner sense and a controlling power. Concu- 
* piscence may be indulged, because it is natural. 
Behold here the true origin and fountain-head of 
the warfare between the Church and the world ; 
here they join issue, and diverge from each other. 
The Church is built upon the doctrine that impurity 
is hateful to God, and that concupiscence is its root ; 
with the Prince of the Apostles, her visible Head, 
she denounces " the corruption of concupiscence 
which is in the world," or that corruption in the 
world which comes of concupiscence; whereas the 
corrupt world, defends, nay, I may even say, sanctifies 
that very concupiscence which is its corruption. Its 
bolder and more consistent teachers, as you know, 
my brethren, make the laws of this physical creation 
so supreme, as to disbelieve the existence of mira- 
cles, as being an interruption of them ; well, and in 
like manner, it deifies and worships human nature 
and its impulses, and denies the power and the grant 
of grace. This is the source of the hatred which 
the world bears to the Church ; it finds a whole 
catalogue of sins brought into light and denounced, 
which it would fain believe to be no sins at all ; it 
finds itself, to its indignation and its impatience, 
surrounded with sin morning, noon, and night; it 
finds that a stern law lies against it, where it 
believed that it was its own master and need not 
think of God ; it finds guilt accumulating upon it 
hourly, which nothing can prevent, nothing remove, 
but a higher power, the grace of God. It finds 



160 



NATURE AND GRACE. 



[Disc. 



itself in danger of being humbled to the earth as a 
sinner, instead of being allowed to indulge its self- 
dependence and self-complacency. Hence it takes 
its stand on nature, and denies or rejects divine 
grace. Like the proud spirit in the beginning, it 
wishes to find its supreme good in its own nature, 
and nothing above it ; it undertakes to be sufficient 
for its own happiness ; it has no desire for the super- 
natural, and therefore does not believe in it. And 
as nature cannot rise above nature, it will not be- 
lieve that the narrow way is possible ; it hates those 
who enter upon it as if pretenders and hypocrites, or 
laughs at their aspirations as romance and fana- 
ticism ; — lest it should believe in the existence of 
grace. 

Now you may think, my brethren, from the way 
in which I have been contrasting nature and grace, 
that they cannot possibly be mistaken for each 
other ; but now I shall show you, in the next place, 
how grace may be mistaken for nature, and nature 
mistaken for grace. They may easily be mistaken 
for each other, because, as it is plain from what I 
have said, the difference is in a great measure an 
inward, and therefore a secret one. Grace is lodged 
in the heart ; it purifies the thoughts and motives, it 
raises the soul to God, it sanctifies the body, it cor- 
rects and exalts human nature in regard to those sins 
of which men are ashamed, and which they do not 
display. But in outward show, in single actions, in 
word, in profession, in teaching, in the social and 



VIII.] 



NATURE AND GRACE. 



161 



political virtues, in striking and heroical exploits, on 
the public transitory scene of things, nature may 
counterfeit grace, nay even to the deception of him 
in whom the counterfeit occurs. Recollect that it 
is by nature, not by grace, that man has the gifts of 
reason and conscience ; and reason and conscience 
will lead him to discover, and in a measure pursue, 
objects which are, properly speaking, supernatural 
and divine. The natural reason is able, from the 
things which are seen, from the voice of tradition, 
from the existence of the soul, and from the ne- 
cessity of the case, to infer the existence of God. 
The natural heart can burst forth by fits and starts 
into emotions of love towards Him ; the natural 
imagination can depict the beauty and glory of His 
attributes ; the natural conscience may ascertain and 
put in order the truths of the great moral law, nay 
even to the condemnation of that concupiscence, 
which it is too weak to subdue, and is persuaded to 
tolerate. The natural will can do many things really 
good and praiseworthy ; nay, in particular cases, or 
at particular seasons, when temptation is away, it 
may seem to have a strength which it has not, and 
to be imitating the austerity and purity of a Saint. 
One man has no temptation to hoard ; another has 
no temptation to gluttony and drunkenness ; another 
has no temptation to ill humour; another has no 
temptation to be ambitious and overbearing. Hence 
human nature may often show to great advantage ; 
it may be meek, amiable, kind, benevolent, generous, 

M 



162 



NATURE AND GRACE. 



[Disc. 



honest, upright, and temperate ; and, as seen in its 
happier specimens, it may become quite a trial to 
faith, seeing that in its best estate it has really no 
relationship to the family of Christ, and no claim 
whatever to a heavenly reward ; — though it can 
talk of Christ and heaven too, read Scripture, and 
" do many things gladly," in consequence of reading, 
and exercise a certain sort of belief, however differ- 
ent from that faith which is imparted to us by grace. 

Certainly, it is a most mournful, often quite a 
piercing thought, to contemplate the conduct and 
the character of those who have never received 
the elementary grace of God in the Sacrament of 
Baptism. They are sometimes so benevolent, so 
active and untiring in their benevolence ; they may 
be so wise and so considerate; they may have so 
much in them to engage the affections of those who 
see them ! Well, let us leave them to God ; His 
grace is over all the earth ; if it comes to good effect 
and bears fruit in the hearts of the unbaptized, He 
will reward it ; but, where grace is not, there doubt- 
less what looks so fair has its reward in this world, 
for such good as is in it, but has no better claim on 
a heavenly reward than skill in any art or science, 
than eloquence or wit. And moreover, it often 
happens, that, where there is much specious and 
amiable, there is also much that is sinful, and fright- 
fully so. Men show their best face in the world ; 
but the greater part of their time, the many hours of 
the day and the night, they are shut up in their 



VIIL] 



NATURE AND GRACE. 



163 



own thoughts. They are their own witnesses, 
none see them besides, save God and His Angels ; 
therefore in such cases we can only judge of what 
we see, and can only admire what is good, without 
having any means of determining the real moral 
condition of those who display it. Just as children 
are caught by the mere good-nature and familiarity 
with which they are treated by some grown man, 
and have no means or thought of forming a judg- 
ment about him in other respects ; as the uneducated, 
who have seen very little of the world, have no 
faculties for distinguishing between one class of men 
and another, and consider all persons on a level who 
are respectably dressed, whatever be their accent, 
their carriage, or their countenance ; so all of us, 
not children only or the uncultivated, are but 
novices, or less than novices, in the business of 
deciding what is the real state in God's sight of this 
or that man who is external to the Church, but in 
character or conduct resembles the Christian. Not 
entering then upon this point, which is beyond us, 
so much we even can see and are sure of, that human 
nature is, in a degree beyond all words, inconsistent, 
and that we must not take for granted that it can 
do any thing at all more than it does, or that those, 
in whom it shows most plausibly, are a whit better 
than they look. We see the best, and, (as far as 
moral excellence goes,) the whole of them ; we can- 
not argue from what we see in favour of what we do 
not see ; we cannot take what we see as a specimen 

m 2 



164 



NATURE AND GRACE. 



[Disc. 



of what they are. Sad then as the spectacle of 
such a man is to a Catholic, he is no difficulty to 
him. He may be benevolent, and kind-hearted, and 
generous, upright and honourable, candid, dispassion- 
ate, and forbearing, yet he may have nothing of a 
special Christian cast about him, meekness, purity, 
or devotion. He may like his own way intensely, 
have a great opinion of his own powers, scoff at faith 
and religious fear, and seldom or never have said a 
prayer in his life. Nay, even outward gravity of 
deportment is no warrant that there is not within 
an habitual indulgence of evil thoughts, and secret 
offences odious to Almighty God. We admire then 
whatever is excellent in the ancient heathen, or in 
moderns, who are nearly in their condition, we 
acknowledge it to be virtuous and praiseworthy, but 
we understand as little of the character or des- 
tiny of the intelligent being in whom it is found, as 
we understand the material substances which present 
themselves to us under the outward garb of shape 
and colour. They are to us as unknown causes 
which have influenced or disturbed the world, and 
which manifest themselves in certain great effects, 
political or otherwise ; they are to us as pictures, 
which appeal to the eye, but not to the touch. Thus 
much we know, that, if they have attained to heaven, 
it has been by the grace of God and their co-opera- 
tion with it; if they have lived and died without 
that grace, they will never see life ; and, if they 
have lived and died in mortal sin, they are in the 



VIII.] 



NATURE AND GRACE. 



165 



state of bad Christians now, and will for ever see 
death. 

Yet, taking the mere outward appearance of 
things, and the more felicitous, though partial and 
occasional, efforts of human nature, how great it is, 
how amiable, how brilliant, — if we may pretend to 
view it distinct from the supernatural influences 
which have ever haunted it ! How great are the 
old Greek lawgivers and statesmen, whose histories 
and works are known to some of us, and whose 
names to many more ! How great are those stern 
Roman heroes, who conquered the world, and pre- 
pared the way for Christ ! How wise, how profound, 
are those ancient teachers and sages ! what power of 
imagination, what a semblance of prophecy, is mani- 
fest in their poets ! The present world is in many 
respects not so great as that old time, but even now 
there is enough in it to show both the strength of 
human nature in this respect, and its weakness. 
Consider the solidity of our own political fabric at 
home, and the expansion of our empire abroad, and 
you will have matter enough spread out before you 
to occupy many a long day in admiration of the 
genius, the virtues, and resources of human nature. 
Take a second meditation upon it ; alas ! you will 
find nothing of faith there, but expedience as the 
measure of right and wrong, and temporal well-being 
as the end of action. Again, many are the tales 
and poems written now-a-days, expressing high 
and beautiful sentiments ; I dare say some of you, 



166 



NATURE AND GRACE. 



[Disc. 



my brethren, have fallen in with them, and perhaps 
you have thought to yourselves, that he must be a 
man of deep religious feeling and high religious pro- 
fession, who could write so well. Is it so in fact, my 
brethren ? it is not so ; why ? because after all it is 
but poetry, not religion ; it is human nature exerting 
the powers of imagination and reason, which it has, 
till it seems to have that which it has not. There 
are, you know, in the animal world various creatures, 
which are able to imitate the voice of man ; nature 
in like manner is a mockery of grace. The truth is, 
the natural man sees this or that principle to be 
good or true from the light of conscience ; and then, 
since he has the power of reasoning, he knows that, 
if this be true, many other things are true likewise ; 
and then, having the power of imagination, he pic- 
tures to himself those other things as true, though 
he does not really understand them. And then he 
brings what he has read and gained from others, 
who have had grace, to his aid, and completes his 
sketch ; and then he throws his feelings and his 
heart into it, meditates on it, and kindles in himself 
a sort of enthusiasm, and thus he is able to write 
beautifully and touchingly about what to others may 
be a reality, but to him is nothing more than a 
fiction. Thus some can write about the early Mar- 
tyrs, and others describe some great Saint of the 
middle ages, not exactly as a Catholic, but as if they 
had a piety and a seriousness, to which they are 
strangers. So too actors on a stage can excite 



VIII.} 



NATURE AND GRACE. 



167 



themselves till they think they are the persons 
they represent ; and, as you know, prejudiced per- 
sons, who wish to quarrel with another, impute some- 
thing to him, which at first they scarcely believe 
themselves, but they wish to believe it and act as 
if it were true, and raise and cherish anger at 
the thought of it, till at last they come simply to 
believe it. So it is, I say, with a number of authors 
in verse and prose ; readers are deceived by their 
fine writing ; they not only praise this or that sen- 
timent, or argument, or description, in what they 
read, which happens to be true, but they put faith 
in the writer ; and they believe sentiments or state- 
ments which are false on the credit of the true. Thus 
it is that people are led away into false religions and 
false philosophies ; a preacher or speaker, who is in 
a state of nature, or has fallen from grace, is able to 
say many things to touch the heart of a sinner or 
strike his conscience, whether from his natural 
powers, or from what he has read in books ; and the 
latter forthwith takes him for his prophet and guide, 
on the warrant of these accidental truths which it 
required no supernatural gifts to enforce. 

Scripture provides us an instance of such a pro- 
phet ; nay, of one far more favoured and honoured 
than any false teacher is now, who nevertheless was 
the enemy of God ; I mean the prophet Balaam. 
He went forth to curse the chosen people against 
an express command from heaven, and that for 
money ; and at length he died fighting against them 



168 



nature and grace. 



[Disc. 



in battle. Such was he in his life and in his death : 
such were his deeds ; but what were his words ? 
most religious, most conscientious, most instructive. 
" If Balac," he says, " shall give me his house full of 
silver and gold, I cannot alter the word of the Lord 
my God." Again, " Let my soul die the death of 
the just, and let my end be the like of theirs !" And 
again, " I will show thee, O man, what is good* and 
what the Lord requireth of thee; to do judgment 
and to love mercy, and to walk carefully with thy 
God." Here is a man, who is not in a state of 
grace, speaking so religiously, that at first sight you 
might have thought he was to be followed in what- 
ever he said, and that your soul would have been 
safe with his. 

And thus it often happens, that those who seem 
so amiable and good, and so trustworthy, when we 
only know them from their writings, disappoint us 
so painfully, if at length we come to have a personal 
acquaintance with them. We do not recognize in 
the living being the eloquence or the wisdom which 
so much enchanted us. He is rude perhaps and 
unfeeling ; he is selfish ; he is dictatorial ; he is 
sensual ; he is empty-minded and frivolous ; while 
we in our simplicity had antecedently thought him 
the very embodiment of purity and tenderness, or an 
oracle of heavenly truth. 

Now, my dear brethren, I have been engaged in 
bringing before you what human nature can do, and 
what it can appear, without being reconciled to God, 



VIII.] 



NATURE AND GRACE. 



169 



without any hope of heaven, without any security 
against sin, without any pardon of the original curse ; 
nay, in the midst of mortal sin ; but it is a state 
which has never existed in fact, without great modi- 
fications. No one has ever been deprived of the 
assistances of grace, both for illumination and con- 
version ; even the heathen world as a whole had to 
a certain extent its darkness relieved by these fitful 
and recurrent gleams of light ; but I have thought 
it useful to get you to contemplate what human 
nature is, viewed in itself, for various reasons. It 
explains how it is that men look so like each other 
as they do, — grace being imitated, and, as it were, 
rivalled by nature, both in society at large, and in 
the hearts of particular persons. Hence the world 
will not believe the separation really existing 
between it and the Church, and the smallness of 
the flock of Christ. And hence too it is, that 
numbers who have heard the Name of Christ, and 
profess to believe in the Gospel, will not be per- 
suaded as to themselves that they are exterior to 
the Church, and do not enjoy her privileges; merely 
because they do their duty in some general way, or 
because they are conscious to themselves of being 
benevolent or upright. And this is a point which 
concerns Catholics too, as I now proceed to show 
you. 

Make yourselves quite sure then, my brethren, 
before you go away with the belief, that you are not 
confusing, in your own case, nature and grace ; and 



170 



NATURE AND GRACE. 



[Disc. 



taking credit to yourselves for supernatural works, 
which merit heaven, when you are but doing the 
works of a heathen, are unforgiven, and lie under an 
eternal sentence. O, it is a dreadful thought, that 
a man may deceive himself with the notion that 
he is secure merely because he is a Catholic, and 
because he has some kind of love and fear of God, 
whereas he may be no better than many a Protes- 
tant round about him, who either never was bap- 
tized, or threw himself once for all out of grace 
on coming to years of understanding. This idea is 
entirely conceivable ; it is well if it be not true in 
matter of fact. You know, it is one opinion enter- 
tained among divines and holy men, that the num- 
ber of Catholics that are to be saved will on the 
whole be small. Multitudes of those who never 
knew the Gospel will rise up in the judgment 
against the children of the Church, and will be 
shown to have done more with scantier oppor- 
tunities. Our Lord speaks of His people as a small 
flock, as I cited His words when I began : He says, 
" Many are called, few are chosen." St. Paul, 
speaking, in the first instance, of the Jews, says that 
but "a remnant is saved according to the election of 
grace." He speaks even of the possibility of his own 
reprobation. What a thought in an Apostle ! yet it 
is one with which Saints are familiar; they fear 
both for themselves and for others. It is related in 
the history of my own dear Patron, St. Philip Neri, 
that some time after his death he appeared to a holy 



VIII.] 



NATURE AND GRACE. 



171 



religious, and bade him take a message of con- 
solation to his children, the Fathers of the Oratory. 
The consolation was this, that, by the grace of God, 
up to that day not one of the Congregation had 
been lost. " None of them lost !" a man may cry 
out, " well, had his consolation for his children been, 
that they were all in paradise, having escaped the 
dark lake of purgatory, that would have been some- 
thing worth telling ; but all he had to say was, that 
none of them were in hell ! Strange if they were ! 
Here was a succession of men, who had given up the 
world for a religious life, who had given up self for 
God and their neighbour, who had passed their 
days in prayer and good works, who had died 
happily with the last Sacraments, and it is revealed 
about them, as a great consolation, that none of 
them were lost ! " Still such after all is our holy 
Father's consolation ; and, that it should be such, 
only proves that salvation is not so easy a matter, or 
so cheap a possession, as we are apt to suppose. It 
is not obtained by the mere wishing. And, if it 
was a thing so to be coveted by men, who had made 
sacrifices for Christ, and were living in sanctity, how 
much more rare and arduous of attainment is it in 
those who have confessedly loved the world more 
than God, and have never dreamed of doing any 
duty to which the Church did not oblige them % 

Tell me, what is the state of your souls and the 
rule of your lives ? You come to Confession, once a 
year, four times a year, at the Indulgences ; you 



172 



NATURE AND GRACE. 



[Disc. 



communicate as often ; you do not miss Mass on 
days of obligation ; you are not conscious of any 
great sin. — There you come to an end ; you have 
nothing more to say. What ? do you not take 
God's Name in vain ? only when you are angry ; — 
that is, I suppose, you are subject to fits of violent 
passion, in which you use every shocking word which 
the devil puts into your mouth, and abuse and curse, 
and perhaps strike the objects of your anger? — 
Only now and then, you say, except when you are 
in liquor. Then you are given to intoxication ; — you 
answer, you never drink so much as not to know 
what you are doing. Well, have you improved in 
these respects in the course of several years past ? 
You cannot say you have, but such sins are not 
mortal at the most. Then, I suppose, you have not 
lately fallen into mortal sin at all ? You pause, and 
then you are obliged to confess that you have, and 
that once and again ; and the more I question you, 
perhaps the longer becomes the catalogue of offences 
which have separated you from God. But this is 
not all ; your sole idea of sin is, the sinning in act 
andjn deed; sins of habit, which cling so close to 
you that they are difficult to detect, and manifest 
themselves in slight but continual influences on your 
thoughts, words, and works, do not engage your 
attention at all. You are selfish, and obstinate, 
and worldly, and self-indulgent ; you neglect your 
children ; you are fond of idle amusements ; you 
scarcely ever think of God from day to day, for I 



VIII.] 



NATURE AND GRACE. 



173 



cannot call jour hurried prayers morning and night 
any thinking of Him at all. You are friends with 
the world, and live a good deal with Protestants. 
Now what have you to tell me which will set 
against this ? what good have you done ? in what is 
your hope of heaven ? whence do you gain it ? You 
answer me, that the Sacrament of Penance reconciles 
you from time to time to God ; that you live in the 
world ; that you are not called to the religious state ; 
that it is true you love the world more than God, 
but that you love God sufficiently for salvation, and 
that you rely in the hour of death upon the power- 
ful intercession of the Blessed Mother of God. 
Then besides, you have a number of good points, 
which you go through, and which are to you signs 
that you are in the grace of God ; you conceive that 
your state at worst is one of tepidity. Tepidity ! 
you have no marks of tepidity : do you wish to 
know what a tepid person is ? one, who has begun 
to lead almost the life of a Saint, and has fallen 
from his fervour ; one who retains his good practices, 
but does them without devotion ; one who does so 
much, that we only blame him for not doing more. 
No, you need not confess tepidity, my brethren ; — 
do you wish to have the judgment which I am led 
to form about you ? it is, that probably you are not 
in the grace of God at all. The probability is, that 
for a long while past you have not gone to Con- 
fession with the proper dispositions, with real grief, 
and with sincere purpose of amendment for your 



174 



NATURE AND GRACE. 



[Disc. 



sins. You are probably such, that were you to die 
this night, you would be lost for ever. What do 
you do more than nature ? You do certain good 
things, " what reward have ye ? do not even the 
publicans so ? what do ye more than others ? do not 
even the heathen so ? " You have the ordinary 
virtues of human nature, or some of them ; you are 
what nature made you, and care not to be better. 
You may be naturally kind-hearted, and then you 
do charitable actions to others : you have a natural 
strength of character, — if so, you are able to bring 
your passions under the power of reason ; you have 
a natural energy, and you labour for your family ; 
you are naturally mild, and you do not quarrel ; you 
have a dislike of intemperance, and therefore you 
are sober. You have the virtues of your Protestant 
neighbours, and their faults too ; what are you better 
than they ? 

Here is another grave matter against you, that 
you are so well with the Protestants about you ; I 
do not mean to say that you are not bound to cul- 
tivate peace with all men, and to do them all the 
offices of charity in your power. Of course you 
are, and if they respect, esteem, and love you, it 
redounds to your praise and will gain you a reward ; 
but I mean more than this; they do not respect 
you, but they like you, because they think of you as 
of themselves, they see no difference between them- 
selves and you. This is the very reason why they 
so often take your part, and assert or defend your 



VIII.] 



NATURE AND GRACE. 



175 



political rights. Here again, there is a sense of 
course in which our civil rights may be advocated by 
Protestants without any reflection on us, and with 
honour to them. We are like others in this, that 
we are men ; that we are members of the same state 
with them, subjects, contented subjects, of the same 
Sovereign ; that we have a dependence on them, and 
have them dependent on us ; that, like them, we 
feel pain when ill-used, and are grateful when well- 
treated. We need not be ashamed of a fellowship 
like this, and those who recognize it in us are 
generous in doing so. But we have much cause to 
be ashamed, and much cause to be anxious what 
God thinks of us, if we gain their support by giving 
them a false impression in our persons of what the 
Catholic Church is, and what Catholics are bound to 
be, what bound to believe, and to do ; and is not 
this the case often, my brethren, that the world 
takes up your interests, because you share its sins ? 

Nature is one with nature, grace with grace ; the 
world then witnesses against you by being good 
friends with you ; you could not have got on with 
the world so well, without surrendering something 
which was precious and sacred. The world likes 
you, all but your professed creed ; distinguishes you 
from your creed in its judgment of you, and would 
fain separate you from it in fact. Men say, " These 
persons are better than their Church ; we have not 
a word to say for their Church ; but Catholics are 
not what they were, they are very much like other 



176 



NATURE AND GRACE. 



[Disc. 



men now. Their Creed certainly is bigoted and 
cruel, but what would you have of them ? You 
cannot expect them to confess this ; let them change 
quietly, no one changes in public, be satisfied that 
they are changed. They are as fond of the world 
as we are ; they take up political objects as warmly ; 
they like their own way just as well ; they do not 
like strictness a whit better ; they hate spiritual 
thraldom, and they are half ashamed of the Pope 
and his Councils. They hardly believe any miracles 
now, and are annoyed when their own brethren 
officiously proclaim them ; they never speak of pur- 
gatory ; they are sore about images ; they avoid the 
subject of Indulgences : and they will not commit 
themselves to the doctrine of exclusive salvation. 
The Catholic doctrines are now mere badges of 
party. Catholics think for themselves and judge 
for themselves, just as we do ; they are kept in 
their Church by a point of honour, and reluctance 
at seemiug to abandon a fallen cause." 

Such is the judgment of the world, and you, 
my brethren, are shocked to hear it ; — but may it 
not be, that the world knows more about you than 
you know about yourselves ? " If ye had been of 
the world," says Christ, " the world would love its 
own ; but because ye are not of the world, but 
I have chosen you out of the world, therefore the 
world hateth you." So speaks Christ of His Apostles. 
How run His words when applied to you ? " If ye be 
of the world, the world will love its own ; therefore 



VIII.] 



NATURE AND GRACE. 



177 



ye are of the world, and I have not chosen you out 
of the world, because the world loveth you." Do 
not complain of the world's imputing to you more 
than is true ; those who live as the world give 
colour to those who think as the world, and seem 
to form but one party with them. In proportion 
as you put off the yoke of Christ, so does the world 
by a sort of instinct recognise you, and think well 
of you accordingly. Its highest compliment is to 
tell you that you disbelieve. O, my brethren, there 
is an eternal enmity between the world and the 
Church. The Church declares by the mouth of the 
Apostle, " Whoso shall will to be a friend of the 
world, becomes an enemy of God ;" and the world 
retorts, and calls the Church apostate, sorceress, 
Beelzebub, and Antichrist. She is the image and 
the mother of the predestinate, and, if you would be 
found among her children when you die, you must 
have part in her reproach while you live. Does 
not the world scoff at all that is glorious, all that 
is majestic, in our holy religion \ Does it not speak 
against the special creations of God's grace ? Does 
it not disbelieve the possibility of purity and chas- 
tity ? Does it not slander the profession of celibacy ? 
Does it not deny the virginity of Mary ? Does it 
not cast out her very name as evil ? Does it not 
scorn her as a dead woman, whom you know to be 
the Mother of all living, and the great Intercessor 
of the faithful? Does it not ridicule the Saints? 
Does it not make light of their relics ? Does it not 
despise the Sacraments ? Does it not blaspheme the 

N 



178 



NATURE AND GRACE. 



awful Presence which dwells upon our altars, and 
mock bitterly and fiercely at what it calls bread and 
wine being the same flesh and Blood of the Lamb, 
which lay in Mary's womb and hung on the Cross ? 
What are we that we should be better treated than 
our Lord, and His Mother, and His servants, and 
His works ? Nay, what are we, if we be better 
treated, but the friends of those who treat us well, 
and who ill-treat Him ? 

O, my dear brethren, be children of grace, not of 
nature ; be not seduced by this world's sophistries 
and assumptions ; it pretends to be the work of 
God, but in reality it comes of Satan. " I know 
My sheep," says our Lord, " and Mine know Me, 
and they follow Me." "Show me, Thou whom 
my soul loveth," says the Bride in the Canticles, 
" where Thou feedest, where Thou restest at noon :" 
and He answers her, " Go forth, and follow after the 
steps of the flocks, and feed thy kids beside the 
shepherds' tents." Let us follow the Saints, as they 
follow Christ ; so that, when He comes in judgment, 
and the wretched world sinks to perdition, "on us 
sinners, His servants, hoping from the multitude of 
His mercies, He may vouchsafe to bestow some 
portion and fellowship with His Holy Apostles and 
Martyrs, with John, Stephen, Matthias, Barnabas, 
Ignatius, Alexander, Marcelline, Peter, Felicity, Per- 
petua, Agatha, Lucy, Agnes, Cicely, Anastasia, and 
all His Saints, not for the value of our merit, but 
according to the bounty of His pardon." 



DISCOURSE IX 



ILLUMINATING GRACE. 



When man was created, he was endowed withal 
with gifts above his own nature, by means of which 
that nature was perfected. As some potent stimu- 
lant which does not nourish, a scent or a draught, 
rouses, invigorates, concentrates our animal powers, 
gives keenness to our perceptions, and intensity to 
our efforts, so, or rather in some far higher sense, 
and in more diversified ways, did the supernatural 
grace of God give a meaning, and an aim, and a 
sufficiency, and a consistency, and a certainty, to the 
many faculties of that compound of soul and body, 
which constitutes man. And when man fell, he 
lost this divine, unmerited gift, and, instead of soar- 
ing heavenwards, fell down feeble to the earth, in 
a state of exhaustion and collapse. And, again, 
when God, for Christ's sake, is about to restore 
any one to His favour, His first act of mercy is 

n 2 



180 



ILLUMINATING GRACE. 



[Disc. 



to impart to him a portion of this grace ; the first- 
fruits of that sovereign, energetic power, which con- 
forms and attunes his whole nature, and enables it 
to fulfil its own end, while it fulfils one higher than 
its own. 

Now, one of the defects which man incurred on 
the fall, was ignorance, or spiritual blindness ; and one 
of the gifts received on his restoration is a percep- 
tion of things spiritual ; so that, before he is brought 
under the grace of Christ, he can but inquire, 
reason, argue, and conclude, about religious truth ; 
but afterwards he sees it. " Blessed art thou, Simon, 
son of Jona," said our Lord to St. Peter, when he 
confessed the Incarnation, " for flesh and blood hath 
not revealed it to thee, but My Father, which is in 
heaven." " I thank Thee, O Father, Lord of heaven 
and earth, because Thou hast hid these things from 
the wise and prudent, and hath revealed them unto 

little ones No one knoweth the Son but the 

Father, and no one knoweth the Father, save the 
Son, and he to whom the Son willeth to reveal 
Him." In like manner St. Paul says, "The animal" 
or natural " man perceiveth not the things of the 
Spirit of God ;" and elsewhere, " No one can say 
the Lord Jesus, but in the Holy Ghost." And St. 
John, " Ye have an unction from the Holy One, and 
ye know all things." The Prophets had promised 
the same gift before Christ came ; — " I will make all 
thy sons taught of the Lord," says Isaias, " and the 
multitude of peace upon thy sons." " No more," 



IX.] 



ILLUMINATING GRACE. 



181 



says Jeremias, " shall man teach his neighbour, and 
man his brother, saying, Know the Lord, for all shall 
know Me from the least of them even to the great- 
est of them." 

Now here you may say, my brethren, " What is 
the meaning of this ? are we men, or are we not ? 
have we lost part of our nature by the fall, or have 
we not ? is not the Reason a part of man's nature ? 
does not the Reason see, as the eye does ? cannot 
we, by the natural power of our Reason, understand 
all kinds of truths, about this earth, about human 
society, about the realms of space, about matter, 
about the soul ; why should religion be an excep- 
tion ? why then cannot we understand by our na- 
tural reason about Almighty God and heaven? If 
we can inquire into one thing, we can inquire into 
another ; if we can imagine one thing, we can ima- 
gine another ; how then is it that we cannot arrive 
at the truths of religion without the supernatural aid 
of grace?" This is a question which may give rise to 
some profitable reflections, and I shall now attempt 
to answer it. 

You ask, what it is you need, besides eyes, in 
order to see the truths of revelation : I will tell you 
at once; you need light. Not the keenest eyes can 
see in the dark. Now, though your mind be the eye, 
the grace of God is the light ; and you will as easily 
exercise your eyes in this sensible world without the 
sun, as will be able to exercise your mind in the 



182 



ILLUMINATING GRACE. 



[Disc. 



spiritual world without a parallel gift from without. 
Now you are born under a privation of this blessed 
spiritual light ; and, while it remains, you will not, 
cannot, really see God. I do not say you will have 
no thought at all about God, nor be able to talk 
about Him. True, but you will not be able to 
do more than reason about Him. Your thoughts 
and your words will not get beyond a mere rea- 
soning. I grant then what you claim ; you claim to 
be able by your mental powers to reason about God : 
doubtless you can, but to infer a thing is not to see 
it in respect to the physical world, nor is it in the 
spiritual. 

Consider the case of a man without eyes talking 
about forms and colours, and you will understand 
what I mean. A blind man may pick up a good 
deal of information of various kinds, and be very 
conversant with the objects of sight, though he does 
not see. He may be able to talk about them 
fluently, and may be fond of doing so ; he may 
even talk of seeing as if he really saw, till he almost 
seems to pretend to the faculty of sight. He speaks 
of heights and distances, and directions, and the 
dispositions of places, and shapes, and appearances, 
as naturally as other men ; and he is not duly aware 
of his own extreme privation ; and, if you ask how 
this comes about, it is partly because he hears what 
other men say about these things, and he is able to 
imitate them, and partly because he cannot help 



IX.] 



ILLUMINATING GRACE. 



183 



reasoning upon the things he hears and drawing 
conclusions from them ; and thus he comes to think 
he knows what he does not know at all. 

He hears man converse ; he may have books read 
to him ; he gains vague ideas of objects of sight, and 
when he begins to speak, his words are tolerably 
correct, and do not at once betray how little he 
knows what he is talking about. He infers one 
thing from another, and thus is able to speak of 
many things which he does not see, but only per- 
ceives must be so, granting other things are so. For 
instance, if he knows that blue and yellow make 
green, he may pronounce, without a chance of mis- 
take, that green is more like ' blue than yellow is ; 
if he happens to know that one man is under six 
feet in height, and another is full six feet, he may, 
when they are both before him, boldly declare, as if 
he saw, that the latter is the taller of the two. It 
is not that he judges by sight, but that reason takes 
the place of it. There was much talk in the world 
some little time since of a man of science, who was 
said to have found out a new planet ; how did he do 
it ? did he watch night after night, wearily and per- 
severingly, in the chill air, through the tedious 
course of the starry heavens, for what he might find 
there, till at length, by means of some powerful 
glass, he discovered in the dim distance this un- 
expected addition to our planetary system? Far 
from it; it is said, that he sat at his ease in his 
library, and made calculations on paper in the day- 



184 



ILLUMINATING GRACE. 



[Disc. 



time, and thus, without looking once up at the sky, 
he determined, from what was already known of the 
sun and the planets, of their number, their positions, 
their motions, and their influences, that, in addition 
to them all, there must be some other body in that 
very place where he said it would be found, if astro- 
nomers did but turn their instruments upon it. 
Here was a man reading the heavens, not with eyes, 
but by reason. Reason then is a sort of substitute 
for sight; and so in many respects are the other 
senses, as is obvious. You know how quick the 
blind are often found to be in discovering the 
presence of friends, and the feelings of strangers, by 
the voice, and the tone, and the tread ; so that they 
seem to understand looks, and gestures, and dumb 
show as if they saw, to the surprise of those who 
wish to keep their meaning secret from them. 

Now this will explain the way in which the 
natural man is able partly to understand, and still 
more to speak upon, supernatural subjects. There 
is a large floating body of Catholic truth in the 
world ; it comes down by tradition from age to age ; 
it is carried forward by preaching and profession 
from one generation to another, and is poured about 
into all quarters of the world. It is found in ful- 
ness and purity in the Church alone, but portions of 
it, larger or smaller, escape far and wide, and pene- 
trate into places which have never been under the 
teaching of divine grace. Now men may take up 
and profess these scattered truths, merely because they 



IX.] 



ILLUMINATING GRACE. 



185 



fall in with them ; these fragments of revelation, such 
as the doctrine of the Holy Trinity, or the Atone- 
ment, are the religion which they have been taught 
in their childhood ; and therefore they retain them, 
and profess them, and repeat them, without really 
seeing them, as the Catholic sees them, but as 
receiving them merely by word of mouth, from 
imitation of others. And in this way it often 
happens that men external to the Catholic Church 
write sermons and instructions, draw up and arrange 
devotions, or compose hymns, which are faultless, or 
nearly so, which are the fruit, not of his own illu- 
minated mind, but of his careful study, sometimes of 
his accurate translation, of Catholic originals. Then 
again Catholic truths and rites are so beautiful, so 
great, so consolatory, that they draw one on to love 
and admire them with a natural love, as a prospect 
might draw them on, or a skilful piece of me- 
chanism. Hence men of lively imagination profess 
this doctrine or that, or adopt this or that ceremony 
or usage, for their very beauty-sake, not asking 
themselves whether they are true, and having no real 
perception or mental hold of them. Thus too they 
will decorate their churches, stretch and strain their 
ritual, attempt candles, vestments, flowers, incense, 
and processions, not from faith, but from poetical 
feeling. And moreover the Catholic Creed, as 
coming from God, is so harmonious, so consistent 
with itself, holds together so perfectly, so corre- 
sponds part to part, that an acute mind, knowing one 



186 



ILLUMINATING GRACE. 



[Disc. 



portion of it, would often infer another portion, 
merely as a matter of just reasoning. Thus a cor- 
rect thinker might be sure, that, if God is infinite 
and man finite, there must be mysteries in religion. 
It is not that he really feels the mysteriousness of 
religion, but he infers it ; he is led to it as a matter 
of necessity, and from mere clearness of mind and 
love of consistency, he maintains it. Again, a man 
may say, " Since this or that doctrine has so much 
evidence in its favour, of course I must accept it ;" 
he has no real sight or direct perception of it, but 
he takes up the profession of it, because he feels 
it would be absurd, under the conditions with which 
he starts, to do otherwise. He does no more than 
load himself with a form of words, instead of con- 
templating, with the eye of the soul, God Himself, 
the Source of all truth, and this doctrine as proceed- 
ing from His mouth. A keen sagacious intellect 
will carry a man a great way in anticipating doc- 
trines which he has never been told ; — thus, before 
it knew what Scripture said on the subject, it might 
argue ; " Sin is an offence against God beyond con- 
ception great, for, if it were not, why should Christ 
have suffered ? " that is, he sees that it is necessary 
for the Christian system of doctrine that sin should 
be a great evil. Nay, I can fancy a man con- 
jecturing that our bodies would rise again, as ar- 
guing it out from the fact that the Eternal God 
has so honoured our mortal flesh as to take it 
upon Him as part of Himself. Thus he would be 



IX.] 



ILLUMINATING GRACE. 



187 



receiving the resurrection or eternal punishment 
merely as truths which follow from what he knew 
already. And in like manner learned men, outside 
the Church, may compose most useful works on the 
evidences of religion, or in defence of particular 
doctrines, or in explanation of the whole scheme of 
Catholicism ; in these cases reason becomes the 
handmaid of faith : still it is not faith ; it does not 
rise above an intellectual view or notion ; it affirms, 
not as grasping the truth, not as seeing, but as 
"being of opinion," as "judging," as "coming to a 
conclusion." 

Here then you see what the natural man can do ; 
he can feel, he can imagine, he can admire, he can 
reason, he can infer ; in all these ways he may proceed 
to receive the whole or part of Catholic truth ; but he 
cannot see, he cannot love. Yet he will perplex reli- 
gious persons, who do not understand the secret by 
which he is able to make so imposing a display ; for 
they will be at a loss to understand how it is he is able 
to speak so well, except he speak, though out of the 
Church, by the Spirit of God. Thus it is with the 
writings of some of the ancient heretics, who wrote 
upon the Incarnation ; so it is with heretics of 
modern times who have written on the doctrine of 
grace ; they write sometimes with such beauty and 
depth, that one cannot help admiring what they say 
on those very subjects, as to which we know withal 
that at bottom they are unsound. But, my brethren, 
the sentiments may be right and good in themselves, 



188 



ILLUMINATING GRACE. 



[Disc. 



but not in them ; these are the solitary truths which 
they have happened to infer in a range of matters 
about which they see and know nothing, and their 
heresy on other points, close upon their acceptance 
of these truths, is a proof that they do not see what 
they speak of. A blind man, discoursing upon form 
and colour, might say some things truly, and some 
things falsely ; and what he said falsely, though 
single, would betray that he had no real possession 
of what he said truly, though manifold ; for, had he 
had eyes, he not only would have been correct in 
many, but would have been mistaken in none. For 
instance, supposing that he knew that two buildings 
were the same in height, he might perhaps be led 
boldly to pronounce that their appearance was the 
same when he looked at them, not knowing that 
the greater distance of the one of them from us 
might reduce it to the eye to a half or a fourth of 
the other. And thus men who are not in the 
Church, and who have no practical experience of the 
Catholic devotion to the Blessed Mother of God, 
when they read our prayers and litanies, and observe 
the strength of their language, and the length to 
which they run, confidently assert that she is, in 
every sense and way, the object of our worship, to 
the exclusion, or in rivalry, of the Supreme God ; 
not understanding that He " in whom we live, and 
move, and are," who new-creates us with His grace, 
and who feeds us with His own Body and Blood, is 
closer to us and more intimately with us than any 



IX.] 



ILLUMINATING GRACE. 



189 



creature; that Saints and Angels, and the Blessed 
Virgin herself, are necessarily at a distance from us, 
compared with Him, and, that whatever language 
we use towards them, though our words were the 
same as those which we used to our Maker, they 
would only carry with them a sense, which is due and 
proportionate to the object we address. And thus 
these objectors are detected by their objection itself, 
as knowing and seeing nothing of what they dispute 
about. 

And now I have explained sufficiently what is 
meant by saying that the natural man holds divine 
truths merely as an opinion, and not as a point of 
faith : grace believes, reason does but think ; grace 
gives certainty, reason is never decided. Now it is 
remarkable that this characteristic of reason is so 
felt by the persons themselves of whom I am speak- 
ing, that, in spite of the extent to which they carry 
their opinions, whatever that be, conscious that they 
have no grounds for real and fixed conviction about 
revealed truth, they boldly face the difficulty, and 
consider it a fault to be certain about revealed truth, 
and a merit to doubt. For instance, " the Holy 
Catholic Church," is a point of faith ; as being one 
of the articles of the Apostles' Creed ; yet they 
think it an impatience to be dissatisfied with uncer- 
tainty as to where it is, and what it says. They are 
well aware that no man alive would put undoubting 
faith and reliance in the Establishment except he 
were in a state of gross ignorance, or by doing 



190 



ILLUMINATING GRACE. 



[Disc. 



violence to his reason; they know that the great 
mass of its members in no sense believe in it, and 
that of the remainder no one could say more than 
that it indirectly comes from God, and that it is safest 
to remain in it. There is, in these persons, no faith, 
only an opinion, about this article of the Creed. 
Accordingly they are obliged to say, in mere defence 
of their own position, that faith is not necessary, and 
a state of doubt is sufficient, and all that is expected. 
In consequence they attribute it to mere restlessness, 
when their own members seek to exercise faith in 
the Holy Catholic Church as a revealed truth, as 
they themselves profess to exercise it in the Holy 
Trinity or our Lord's resurrection, and hunt about, 
and ask on all sides, how they are to do so. Nay, 
they go so far as to impute it to a Catholic as a fault, 
when he manifests a simple trust in the Church and 
her teaching. It sometimes happens that those who 
join the Catholic Church from some protestant com- 
munity, are seen to change the uncertainty and 
hesitation of mind which they showed before their 
conversion into a clear and fearless confidence ; they 
doubted about their old community, they have no 
doubt about their new. They have no fears, no 
anxieties, no difficulties, no scruples. They speak 
as they feel ; and the world not understanding that 
this is the effect of the grace which (as we may 
humbly trust,) these happy souls have received, not 
understanding that, though it has full experience of 
the region of the shadow of death in which it lies, it 



IX.] 



ILLUMINATING GRACE. 



191 



has none at all of that city, whereof the Lord God 
and the Lamb is the light, measuring what Catholics 
have by what itself has not, cries out, "How for- 
ward, how unnatural, how excited, how extrava- 
gant;" and it considers that such a change is a 
change for the worse, and a proof that the step was 
a mistake and a fault, because it produces precisely 
that effect which it would produce, were it a change 
for the better. 

It tells us that certainty, and confidence, and 
boldness in speech, are unchristian ; is this pleading a 
cause, or a judgment from facts ? Was it confidence 
or doubt, was it zeal or coldness, was it keenness or 
irresolution in action, which distinguished the Mar- 
tyrs in the first ages of the Church ? Was the 
religion of Christ propagated by the vehemence of 
faith and love, or by a philosophical balance of 
argument \ Look back at the early Martyrs, my 
brethren, what were they ? why, they were very 
commonly youths and maidens, soldiers and slaves ; 
— " a set of hot-headed young men, who would have 
lived to be wise, had they not chosen to die; who 
tore down imperial manifestoes, broke the peace, 
challenged the judges to dispute, would not rest till 
they got into the same den with a lion, and, if chased 
out of one city, began preaching in another !" So said 
the blind world about those who saw the Unseen. 
Yes ! it was the spiritual sight of God which made 
them what they were. No one is a Martyr for a 
conclusion, no one is a Martyr for an opinion ; it is 



192 



ILLUMINATING GRACE. 



[Disc. 



faith that makes Martyrs. He who knows and 
loves the things of God has not power to deny 
them ; he may have a natural shrinking from torture 
and death, but such terror is incommensurate with 
faith, and as little acts upon it as dust and mire 
touches the sun's light, or scents or sights could 
stop a wheel in motion. The Martyrs saw, and 
how could they but speak what they had seen? 
They might shudder at the pain, but they had not 
the power not to see; if threats could undo the 
heavenly truths, then might it silence their con- 
fession of them. O my brethren, the world is in- 
quiring, and large-minded, and knows many things ; 
it talks well and profoundly ; but is there one among 
its Babel of opinions it would be a Martyr for ? Some 
of them may be true, and some false ; let it choose 
any one of them to die for. Its children talk loudly, 
they declaim angrily against the doctrine that God 
is an avenger ; would they die rather than confess 
it? They talk eloquently of the infinite mercy of 
God ; would they die rather than deny it ? If not, 
they have not even enthusiasm, they have not even 
obstinacy, they have not even bigotry, they have not 
even party spirit to sustain them, — much less have 
they grace; they speak upon opinion only, and by 
an inference. Again, there are those who call on 
men to trust the Established communion, as consi- 
dering it to be a branch of the Catholic Church; 
they may urge that this opinion can be cogently 
defended, but an opinion it is ; for say, O ye who 



ILLUMINATING GRACE. 



193 



hold it, how many of you would die rather than 
doubt it? Do you now hold it sinful to doubt it? 
or rather, as I have already said, do you not think 
it allowable, natural, necessary, becoming, humble- 
minded and sober-minded to doubt it? do you not 
almost think better of a man for doubting it, pro- 
vided he does not follow his doubts out, and end in 
disbelieving it ? 

Hence these very same persons, who speak so 
severely of any one who leaves the communion in 
which he was born, doubting of it themselves, are in 
consequence led to view his act as an affront done 
to their body, rather than as an evil to him. They 
consider it as a personal affront to a party and an 
injury to a cause, and the affront is greater or less 
according to the mischief which it does them in the 
particular case. It is not his loss but their incon- 
venience, which is the real measure of his sin. If a 
person is in any way important or useful to them, 
they will protest against his act ; if he is troublesome 
to them, if he goes (as they say) too far, if he is a 
scandal, or a centre of perverse influence, or in any 
way disturbs the order and welfare of their body, 
they are easily reconciled to his proceeding; the 
more courteous of them congratulate him on his 
honesty, and the more bitter congratulate them- 
selves on being rid of him. Is such the feeling of a 
mother and of kinsmen towards a son and a brother ? 
" can a woman forget her babe, that she should not 
have compassion on the son of her womb ?" Did a 



19* 



ILLUMINATING GRACE. 



[Disc. 



man leave the Catholic Church, our first feeling, 
my brethren, as you know so well, would be one of 
awe and fear; we should consider that, though we 
were even losing a scandal to us, still that our gain 
would be nothing in comparison to his loss. We 
know that none can desert the Church without 
quenching an inestimable gift of grace ; that he has 
already received a definite influence and effect upon 
his soul such, that he cannot dispossess himself of it 
without the gravest sin ; that though he may have 
had many temptations to disbelieve, they are only 
like temptations to sensuality, harmless without 
his willing co-operation. This is why the Church 
does not allow him to reconsider the question of her 
own divine mission ; because such inquiries, though 
the appointed means of entering her pale, are super- 
seded on his entrance by the gift of a spiritual sight, 
a gift which consumes doubt so utterly, that hence- 
forth it is not that he must not, but that he cannot 
entertain it ; cannot entertain it except by his own 
great culpability ; and therefore must not, because he 
cannot. This is what we hold, and are conscious of, 
my brethren ; and, as holding it, we never could feel 
satisfaction and relief, on first hearing of the defec- 
tion of a brother, be he ever so unworthy, ever so 
scandalous ; our first feeling would be sorrow. We 
are in fact often obliged to bear with scandalous 
members against our will, from charity to them ; 
but those, whose highest belief is but an inference, 
who are obliged to go over in their minds from time 



IX.] 



ILLUMINATING GRACE. 



195 



to time the reasons and the grounds of their creed, 
lest thej should happen to be left without their con- 
clusion, these persons not having faith, have no 
opportunity for charity, and think that when a man 
leaves them who has given them any trouble, it is a 
double gain, to him that he is where he is better 
fitted to be, to themselves that they are at peace. 

What I have been saying will account for another 
thing, which otherwise will surprise us. The world 
cannot believe that Catholics really hold what they 
profess to hold; and supposes that, if they are 
educated men, they are kept up to their professions 
by external influence, by superstitious fear, by pride, 
by interest, or other bad or unworthy motive. 
Men of the world have never believed in their 
whole life, never have had simple faith in things 
unseen, never have had more than an opinion about 
them, that they might be true and might be false, 
but probably were true, or doubtless were true ; and 
in consequence they think an absolute, unhesitating 
faith in any thing unseen simply an extravagance, 
and especially when it is exercised on objects which 
they do not believe themselves, or even reject with 
scorn or abhorrence. And hence they prophesy 
that the Catholic Church must fall, in proportion as 
men are directed to the sober examination of their 
own thoughts and feelings, and to the separation of 
what is real and true from what is a matter of words 
and pretence. They cannot understand how our 
faith in the Blessed Sacrament is a genuine living 

o2 



196 



ILLUMINATING GRACE. 



[Disc. 



portion of our minds; they think it a mere pro- 
fession which we embrace with no inward assent, 
but because we are told that we shall be lost unless 
we profess it; or because the Catholic Church has 
in dark ages committed herself to it, and we cannot 
help ourselves, though we would, if we could, and 
therefore receive it by constraint, from a sense of 
duty towards our cause, or in a spirit of party. 
They will not believe but what we would gladly get 
rid of the doctrine of transubstantiation, as a heavy 
stone about our necks, if we could. What shocking 
words to use ! It would be wrong to use them, 
were they not necessary to make you understand, 
my brethren, the privilege which you have, and the 
world has not. Shocking indeed and most profane ! 
a relief to rid ourselves of the doctrine that Jesus is 
on our Altars ! as well say a relief to rid ourselves of 
the belief that Jesus is God ; to rid ourselves of the 
belief that there is a God. Yes, that I suppose is 
the true relief, to believe nothing at all, or not to be 
bound to believe any thing; to believe first one 
thing, then another, to believe what we please for as 
long as we please ; that is, not to believe, but to 
have an opinion about every thing, and let nothing 
sit close upon us, to commit ourselves to nothing, to 
keep the unseen world altogether at a distance. 
But if we are to believe any thing at all, if we are to 
make any one heavenly doctrine our own, if we are 
to take some propositions or dogmas as true, why it 
should be a burden to believe what is so gracious, 



IX.] 



ILLUMINATING GRACE. 



197 



and what so concerns us, rather than what is less inti- 
mate and less winning, why we must not believe 
that God is among us, if God there is, why we may 
not believe that God dwells on our Altars as well as 
that He dwells in the sky, certainly is not so self- 
evident, but that we have a claim to ask the reasons 
of it of those, who profess to be so rational and so 
natural in all their determinations. O, my brethren, 
how narrow-minded is this world at bottom after all, 
in spite of its pretences and in spite of appearances ! 
Here you see, it cannot by a stretch of imagination 
conceive that any thing exists, of which it has not 
cognizance in its own heart ; it will not admit into 
its imagination the mere idea that we have faith, 
because it does not know what faith is from expe- 
rience, and it will not admit that there is any thing 
in the mind of man which it does not experience 
itself, for that would be all one with admitting after 
all that there is such a thing as a mystery. It must 
know, it must be the measure of all things, and so 
in self-defence it considers us hypocritical, who 
teach what we cannot believe, lest it should be 
forced to confess itself blind. " Behold what manner 
of charity the Father hath bestowed on us, that we 
should be named, and should be, the sons of God ; 
the world doth therefore know not us, because it 
knoweth not Him !" 

It is for the same reason that inquirers, who are 
approaching the Church, find it so difficult to per- 
suade themselves that their doubts will not continue 



198 



ILLUMINATING GRACE. 



[Disc. 



after they have entered it. This is the reason they 
assign for not becoming Catholics ; for what is to 
become of them, they ask, if their present doubts 
continue after their conversion % they will have 
nothing to fall back upon. They do not reflect that 
their present difficulties are moral ones, not intel- 
lectual; — I mean, that it is not that they really 
doubt whether the conclusion at which they have 
arrived, that the Catholic Church comes from God, 
is true ; this they do not doubt in their reason at 
all, but their mind is too feeble and dull to grasp 
and keep hold of this truth. They recognize it 
dimly, though certainly, as the sun through mists 
and clouds, and they forget that it is the office of 
grace to clear up gloom and haziness, to steady that 
fitful vision, to perfect reason by faith, and to con- 
vert a logical conclusion into an object of intel- 
lectual sight. And thus they will not credit it as 
possible, when we assure them, of what we have 
seen in so many instances, that all their trouble will 
go, when once they have entered the communion of 
Saints, and the atmosphere of grace and light, and 
that they will be so full of peace and joy as not to 
know how to thank God enough, and from the very 
force of their feelings and the necessity of relieving 
them, they will set about converting others with a 
sudden zeal which contrasts strangely with their late 
vacillation. 

Two remarks I must add in conclusion, in ex- 
planation of what I have been saying. 



IX.] 



ILLUMINATING GRACE. 



199 



First, do not suppose I have been speaking in dis- 
paragement of human reason : it is the way to faith ; 
its conclusions are often the very objects of faith. 
It precedes faith, when souls are converted to the 
Catholic Church; and it is the instrument which 
the Church herself is guided to make use of, when 
she is called upon to put forth those definitions 
of doctrine, which, according to the promise and 
power of her Lord and Saviour, are infallible ; but 
still reason is one thing and faith is another, and 
reason can as little be made a substitute for faith, as 
faith for reason. 

Again, I have been speaking as if a state of nature 
were utterly destitute of the influences of grace, and 
as if those who are external to the Church acted 
simply from nature. I have so spoken for the sake 
of distinctness, that grace and nature might clearly 
be contrasted with each other ; but it is not the case 
in fact. God gives His grace to all men, and to 
those who profit by it, He gives more grace, and 
even those who quench it still have the offer. 
Hence some men act simply from nature ; some act 
from nature in some respects, not in others ; others are 
yielding themselves to the guidance of the assistances 
given them ; others may even be in a state of justi- 
fication. Hence it is impossible to apply what has 
been said above to individuals, whose hearts are a 
secret with God. Many are under the influence 
partly of reason and partly of faith, believe some 
things firmly, and have but an opinion on others. 



200 



ILLUMINATING GRACE. 



[Disc. 



Many are in conflict with themselves, and are ad- 
vancing to a crisis, after which they embrace or recede 
from the truth. Many are using the assistances of 
grace so well, that they are in the way to receive its 
permanent indwelling in their hearts. Many, we 
may trust, are enjoying that permanent light, and 
are being securely brought forward into the Church ; 
some, alas ! may have received it, and not advancing 
towards the Holy House in which it is stored, are 
losing it, and, though they know it not, living only by 
the recollections of what was once present within 
them. These are secret things with God ; but the 
great and general truths remain, that nature cannot 
see God, and that grace is the sole means of seeing 
Him ; and that, while it enables us to do so, it also 
brings us into His Church, and is never given us for 
our illumination, but it is also given to make us 
Catholics. 

O, my dear brethren, what joy and what thank- 
fulness should be ours, that God has brought us 
into the Church of His Son ! What gift is equal to 
it in the whole world in its preciousness and in its 
rarity? In this country in particular, where heresy 
ranges far and wide, where uncultivated nature has 
so undisputed a field all her own, where grace is 
given to such numbers only to be profaned and 
quenched, where baptisms only remain in their im- 
press and character, and faith is ridiculed for its 
very firmness, to find ourselves here in the region 
of light, in the home of peace, in the presence of 



ILLUMINATING GRACE. 



201 



Saints, to find ourselves where we can use every 
faculty of the mind and affection of the heart in its 
perfection because in its appointed place and office, 
to find ourselves in the possession of certainty, con- 
sistency, stability, in the highest and holiest subjects 
of human thought, to have hope here, and heaven 
hereafter, to be on the Mount with Christ, while the 
poor world is guessing and quarrelling at its foot 
who among us shall not wonder at his blessedness, 
who shall not be awe-struck at the inscrutable grace 
of God, which has brought him, not others, where he 
stands? " Being justified by faith, have we peace 
towards God through our Lord Jesus Christ ; by whom 
we have through faith access into this grace wherein 
we stand, and glory in hope of the glory of the sons 
of God. And hope confoundeth not ; because the 
charity of God is poured out into our hearts by the 
Holy Ghost who is given to us." And as St. John 
says, still more exactly to our purpose, " Ye have 
an unction from the Holy One." Your eyes are 
anointed by Him who put clay on the eyes of the 
blind man, " from Him have you an unction, and ye 
know," not conjecture, or suppose, or opine, but 
" know," see " all things." " So let the unction 
which you have received of Him, abide in you. 
Nor need ye that any one teach you, but as His 
unction teaches you of all things, and is true and 
no lie, and hath taught you, so abide in Him." You 
can abide in nothing else ; opinions change ; conclu- 
sions are feeble ; inquiries run their course ; reason 



202 



ILLUMINATING GRACE. 



stops short ; but faith alone reaches to the end, faith 
only endures. Faith and prayer alone will endure in 
that last dark hour, when Satan urges all his powers 
and resources against the sinking soul. What will it 
avail 1 us then to have devised some subtle argument, 
or to have led some brilliant attack, or to have 
mapped out the field of history, or to have numbered 
and sorted the weapons of controversy, and to have 
the homage of friends and the respect of the world, 
for our successes, — what will it avail to have had a 
position, to have followed out a work, to have reani- 
mated an idea, to have made a cause to triumph, if 
after all we have not the light of faith to guide us 
on from this world to the next ? O how fain shall 
we be in that day to exchange our place with the 
humblest, and dullest, and most ignorant of the sons 
of men, rather than to stand before the judgment- 
seat in the lot of him who has received great gifts 
from God, and used them for self and for man, who 
has shut his eyes, who has trifled with truth, who 
has repressed his misgivings, who has been led on by 
God's grace but stopped short of its scope, who has 
n eared the land of promise, yet not gone forward to 
take possession of it ! 

1 Te maris et terrse, numeroque carentis arenae 

Mensorem cohibent, Archyta, 
Pulveris exigui prope littus parva Matinum 

Munera ; nec quicquam tibi prodest 
Aerios tentasse domos, animoque rotundum 

Percurrisse polum, morituro ! 



DISCOURSE X. 



FAITH AND PRIVATE JUDGMENT. 



When we consider the beauty, the majesty, the 
completeness, the resources, the consolations, of the 
Catholic religion, it may strike us with wonder, my 
brethren, that it does not convert the multitude of 
those who come in its way. Perhaps you have felt 
this surprise yourselves ; especially those of you who 
have been recently converted, and can compare it, 
from experience, with those religions which the mil- 
lions of this country choose instead of it. You 
know, from experience, how barren, unmeaning, and 
baseless those religions are; what poor attractions 
they have, and how little they have to say for them- 
selves. Multitudes indeed are of no religion at all ; 
and you may not be surprised that those who cannot 
even bear the thought of God, should not feel drawn 
to His Church ; numbers too hear very little about 



204 



FAITH AND PRIVATE JUDGMENT. 



[Disc. 



Catholicism, or a great deal of abuse and calumny, 
and you may not be surprised that they do not all 
at once become Catholic ; but -what may fairly sur- 
prise those who enjoy the fulness of Catholic bless- 
ings is, that those who see the Church eyer so dis- 
tantly, who see but gleams or the faint lustre of 
her majesty, yet should not be so far attracted by 
what they see as to seek to see more, — should not 
at least put themselves in the way to be led on 
to the Truth, which of course is not ordinarily re- 
cognized in its diyine authority except by degrees. 
Moses, when he saw the burning bush, turned aside 
to see " that great sight ;" Nathanael, though he 
thought no good could come out of Xazareth, at 
least followed Philip to Christ, when Philip said to 
him, " Come and see ;" but the multitudes about us 
see and hear, in some measure, surely, many in 
ample measure, and yet are not persuaded thereby 
to see and hear more, are not moyed to act upon 
their knowledge. Seeing they see not, and hearing 
they hear not ; they are contented to remain as they 
are ; they are not drawn to inquire, or at least not 
drawn to embrace. 

Many explanations may be given of this diffi- 
culty ; I will proceed to suggest to you one, which 
will sound like a truism, but yet has a meaning 
in it. Men do not become Catholics, because 
they have not faith. Now you may ask me, how 
this is saying more than that men do not believe 
the Catholic Church because they do not believe it ; 



X.] 



FAITH AND PRIVATE JUDGMENT. 



205 



which is saying nothing at all. Our Lord, for in- 
stance, says, "He who cometh to Me shall not 
hunger, and he who believeth in Me shall never 
thirst ;" — to believe then and to come are the same 
thing. If they had faith, of course they would 
join the Church, for the very meaning, the very 
exercise of faith, is joining the Church. But I 
mean something more than this : faith is a state 
of mind, it is a particular mode of thinking and 
acting, which is exercised, always indeed towards 
God, but in very various ways. Now I mean to 
say, that the multitude of men in this country have 
not this habit or character of mind. We could con- 
ceive, for instance, their believing in their own reli- 
gions ; this would be faith, though a faith impro- 
perly directed ; but they do not believe even their 
own religions ; they do not believe in any thing at 
all. It is a definite defect in their minds : as we 
might say that a person had not the virtue of meek- 
ness, or of liberality, or of prudence, quite independ- 
ently of this or that exercise of the virtue, so there 
is such a virtue as faith, and there is such a defect 
as the absence of it. Now I mean to say that the 
great mass of men in this country have not this par- 
ticular virtue called faith, have not this virtue at all. 
As a man might be without eyes or without hands, 
so they are without faith ; it is a distinct want or 
fault in their soul ; and what I say is, that since they 
have not this faculty of believing, no wonder they 
do not embrace that, which cannot really be em- 



206 



FAITH AND PRIVATE JUDGMENT. [Disc. 



braced without it. They do not believe any thing 
at all in any true sense ; and therefore they do not 
believe the Church in particular. 

Now in the first place what is faith ? it is assent- 
ing to a doctrine as true, which we do not see, which 
we cannot prove, because God says it is true, who 
cannot lie. And further than this, since God 
says it is true, not with His own voice, but by 
the voice of His messengers, it is assenting to 
what man says, not simply viewed as a man, but to 
what he is commissioned to declare, as a messenger, 
prophet, or ambassador from God. In the ordinary 
course of this world we account things true either 
because we see them, or because we can perceive 
that they follow and are deducible from what we do 
see ; that is, we gain truth by sight or by reason, 
not by faith. You will say indeed, that we accept 
a number of things which we cannot prove or see, 
on the word of others; certainly; but then we do 
not think others speak from God ; we accept what 
they say as the word of man ; we have not com- 
monly an absolute and unreserved confidence in 
them, which nothing can shake. We know man 
is open to mistake, and we are always glad to find 
some confirmation of what he says, from other 
quarters, in any important matter: or we receive 
his information with negligence and unconcern, as 
something of little consequence, as a matter of 
opinion ; or if we act upon it, it is as a matter of 
prudence, thinking it best and safest to do so. We 



X.] 



FAITH AND PRIVATE JUDGMENT. 



207 



take his word for what it is worth, and we use it 
according to our necessity, or its probability. We 
keep the decision in our own hands, and reserve to 
ourselves the right of re-opening the question when- 
ever we please. This is very different from divine 
faith; he who believes that God is true, and that 
this is His word, which He has committed to man, 
has no doubt at all. He is as certain that the 
doctrine taught is true, as that God is true ; and he 
is certain, because God is true, because God has 
spoken, not because he sees its truth or can prove 
its truth. That is, faith has two peculiarities ; — it is 
most certain, decided, positive, immoveable in its 
assent, and it gives this assent not because it sees 
with eye, or sees with the reason, but because it is 
told by one who comes from God. 

This is what faith was in the time of the Apostles, 
as no one can deny, and what it was then, it must 
be now; else it ceases to be the same principle. I 
say, it certainly was this in the Apostles' time, for 
you know they preached to the world that Christ 
was the Son of God, that He ;was born of a Virgin, 
that He had ascended on high, that He would come 
again to judge all, the living and the dead. Could 
the world see all this ? could it prove it ? how then 
were men to receive it? why did so many embrace 
it ? on the word of the Apostles, who were, as their 
powers showed, messengers from God. They were 
to submit their reason to a living authority. More- 
over whatever an Apostle said, his converts were 



208 



FAITH AND PRIVATE JUDGMENT. 



[Disc. 



bound to believe ; when they entered the Church, 
they entered it in order to learn. The Church was 
their teacher ; they did not come to argue, to 
examine, to pick and choose, but to accept whatever 
was put before them. Xo one doubts, no one can 
doubt this, of those primitive times. Christians 
were bound to take without doubting all that the 
Apostles declared to be revealed ; if the Apostles 
spoke, they had to yield an internal assent of their 
minds ; it would not be enough to keep silence, it 
would not be enough not to oppose ; it was not 
allowable to credit in a measure ; it was not allow- 
able to doubt. Xo ; if converts had their own pri- 
vate thoughts of what was said, and only kept them 
to themselves, if they made some secret opposition 
to the teaching, if they waited for further proof 
before they believed, it would be a proof that they 
did not think the Apostles were sent from God to 
reveal His will ; it would be a proof that they did 
not in any true sense believe at all. Immediate, 
implicit, submission of the mind was in the lifetime 
of the Apostles the only, the necessary token of 
faith ; then there was no room whatever for what is 
now called private judgment. Xo one could say, 
" 1 will choose my religion for myself, I will believe 
this. I will not believe that ; I will pledge myself to 
nothing ; I will believe just as long as I please and 
no longer ; what I believe to-day I will reject to- 
morrow, if I choose. I will believe what they have 
as yet said, but I will not believe what they shall 



X.] FAITH AND PRIVATE JUDGMENT. 209 



say in time to come." No ; either the Apostles were 
from God, or they were not ; if they were, every 
thing was to be believed ; if they were not, there 
was nothing to believe. To believe a little, to 
believe more or less was impossible ; it contradicted 
the very notion of believing : if one part was to be 
believed, every part was to be believed ; it was an 
absurdity to believe one thing and not another ; for 
the word of the Apostles, which made the one true, 
made the other true too ; they were nothing in 
themselves, they were all things, they were an 
infallible authority, as coming from God. The 
world had either to become Christian, or to let it 
alone ; there was no room for private tastes and 
fancies, no room for private judgment. 

Now surely this is quite clear from the nature of 
the case ; but it is also clear from the words of 
Scripture. " We give thanks to God," says St. 
Paul, " without ceasing, because, when ye had 
received from us the word of hearing, which is of 
God, ye received it, not as the word of men, but (as 
it truly is) the word of God." Here you see St. 
Paul expresses what I have said above; that the 
word comes from God, that it is spoken by men, 
that it must be received, not as man's word, but as 
God's word. So in another place he says, " He who 
despiseth these things, despiseth not man, but God, 
who hath also given in us His Holy Spirit." Our 
Saviour had made a like declaration already, " He 
that heareth you, heareth Me ; and he that despiseth 

p 



210 



FAITH AND PRIVATE JUDGMENT. "Disc. 



you. despiseth Me ; and he that despiseth Me, 
despiseth Him that sent Me." Accordingly St. 
Peter on the day of Pentecost said. " Men of Israel. 
hear these words. God hath raised up this Jesus, 
whereof we are witnesses. Let all the house of 
Israel know most certainly that God hath made this 
Jesus, whom ye have crucified., both Lord and Christ." 
At another time he said. " We ought to obey God, 
rather than man ; we are witnesses of these things, 
and so is the Hohj Ghost, whom God hath given to 
all who obey Him." And again. ' ; He commanded 
us to preach to the people, and to testify that it is He 
( Jesus) who hath been appointed by God to be the 
Judge of the living and of the dead.*' And you know 
that the continual declaration of the first preachers 
was, " Believe, and thou shalt be saved:' 5 they do 
not say, " prove our doctrine by your own reason," 
nor " wait till you see, before you believe but, 
<; believe without seeing and without proving, be- 
cause our word is not our own. but God's word." 
Men might indeed use their reason in inquiring 
into the pretensions of the Apostles ; they might 
inquire whether or not they did miracles ; they 
might inquire whether they were predicted in the Old 
Testament as coming from God ; but when they had 
ascertained this fairly in whatever way, they were to 
take all the Apostles said for granted without proof ; 
they were to exercise their faith, they were to be 
saved by hearing. Hence, as you perhaps observed, 
St. Paul significantly calls the revealed doctrine 



X.] 



FAITH AND PRIVATE JUDGMENT. 



211 



" the word of hearing," in the passage I quoted ; 
men came to hear, to accept, to obey, not to criticize 
what was said ; and in accordance with this he asks 
elsewhere, " How shall they believe Him, whom they 
have not heard ? and how shall they hear without a 
preacher? Faith cometh by hearing, and hearing 
by the word of Christ." 

Now, my dear brethren, consider, are not these 
two states or acts of mind quite distinct from each 
other; — to believe simply what a living authority 
tells you ; and to take a book, such as Scripture, and 
to use it as you please, to master it, that is, to make 
yourself the master of it, to interpret it for yourself, 
and to admit just what you choose to see in it, and 
nothing more ? Are not these two procedures dis- 
tinct in this, that in the former you submit, in the 
latter you judge % At this moment I am not asking 
you which is the better, I am not asking whether 
this or that is practicable now, but are they not two 
ways of taking up a doctrine, and not one ? is not 
submission quite contrary to judging? Now, is it 
not certain that faith in the time of the Apostles 
consisted in submitting % and is it not certain that it 
did not consist in judging for oneself? It is in vain 
to say that the man who judges from the Apostles' 
writings, does submit to those writings in the first 
instance, and therefore has faith in them ; else why 
should he refer to them at all ? There is, I repeat, 
an essential difference between the act of submitting 
to a living oracle and to his book ; in the former 

p 2 



212 



FAITH AND PRIVATE JUDGMENT. 



[Disc. 



case there is no appeal from the speaker, in the 
latter the final decision remains with the reader. 
Consider how different is the confidence with which 
you report another's words in his presence and in his 
absence. If he be absent, } T ou boldly say that he 
holds so and so, or said so and so ; but let him 
come into the room in the midst of the conversation, 
and your tone is immediately changed. It is then, 
" I think I have heard you say something like this, or 
what I took to be this ;" or you modify considerably 
the statement or the fact to which you originally 
pledged him, dropping one-half of it for safety-sake, 
or retrenching the most startling portions of it ; and 
then after all you wait with some anxiety to see 
whether he will accept any portion of it at all. The 
same sort of process takes place in the case of the 
written document of a person now dead. I can 
fancy a man magisterially expounding St. Paul's 
Epistle to the Galatians or to the Ephesians, who 
would be better content with his absence than 
his sudden re-appearance among us ; lest the Apos- 
tle should take his own meaning out of his hands 
and explain it for himself. In a word, though he 
says he has faith in St. Paul's writings, he con- 
fessedly has no faith in St. Paul ; and though he 
may speak much of Scripture truth, he would have 
had no wish at all to be a Scripture Christian. 

I think I may assume that this virtue, which was 
exercised by the first Christians, is not known at all 
among Protestants now ; or at least if there are 



X.] 



FAITH AND PRIVATE JUDGMENT. 



213 



instances of it, it is exercised towards those, I 
mean their teachers and divines, who expressly dis- 
claim that they are objects of it, and exhort their 
people to judge for themselves. Protestants, gene- 
rally speaking, have not faith in the primitive 
meaning of the word ; this is clear, and here is a 
confirmation of it. If men believed now, as they 
did in the times of the Apostles, they could not 
doubt nor change. No one can doubt whether a 
word spoken by God is to be believed ; of course it 
is ; whereas any one, who is modest and humble, 
may easily be brought to doubt of his own inferences 
and deductions. Since men now-a-days deduce from 
Scripture, instead of believing a teacher, you may ex- 
pect to see them waver about ; they will feel the force 
of their own deductions more strongly at one time 
than at another, they will change their minds about 
them, or perhaps deny them altogether ; whereas this 
cannot be, while a man has faith ; that is, belief that 
what a preacher says to him comes from God. This 
is what St. Paul especially insists on, telling us that 
Apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors, and teachers, 
are given us that " we may all attain to unity of 
faith," and, on the contrary, " that we be not as 
children tossed to and fro, and carried about by 
every gale of doctrine." Now, in matter of fact, do 
not men in this day change about in their religious 
opinions without any limit ? is not this then a proof 
that they have not that faith which the Apostles 
demanded of their converts ? If they had faith, they 



214 FAITH AND PRIVATE JUDGMENT. [Disc. 

would not change. Once believe that God has 
spoken, and you are sure He cannot unsay what He 
has already said ; He cannot deceive ; He cannot 
change ; you have received it once for all ; you will 
believe it ever. 

Such is the only rational, consistent account of 
faith ; but so far are Protestants from professing it, 
that they laugh at the very notion of it. They 
laugh at the notion of men pinning their faith (as 
they express themselves) upon Pope or Council ; 
they think it simply superstitious and narrow- 
minded, to profess to believe just what the Church 
believes, and to assent to whatever she shall say in 
time to come on matters of doctrine. That is, they 
laugh at the bare notion of doing what Christians 
undeniably did in the time of the Apostles. Ob- 
serve, they do not ask whether the Catholic Church 
has a claim to teach, has authority, has the gifts ; no, 
they think that the very state of mind, which such a 
claim involves in those who admit it, the disposition 
to accept without reserve or question, is slavish. They 
call it priestcraft to insist on this surrender of the 
reason, and bigotry to offer it. That is, they quarrel 
with the very state of mind which all Christians had 
in the age of the Apostles ; nor is there any doubt, 
(who will deny it that those who thus boast of 
not being led blindfold, of judging for themselves, of 
believing just as much and just as little as they 
please, of hating dictation, and so forth, would have 
found it an extreme difficulty to hang on the lips of 



X.] 



FAITH AND PRIVATE JUDGMENT. 



215 



the Apostles had they lived at their date, or rather 
would have simply resisted the sacrifice of their 
liberty of thought, would have thought life eternal 
too dearly purchased at such a price, and would 
have died in their unbelief. And they would have 
defended themselves on the plea that it was absurd 
and childish to ask them to believe without proof, 
to bid them give up their education, and their intel- 
ligence, and their science, and, in spite of all those 
difficulties which reason and sense find in the 
Christian doctrine, in spite of its mysteriousness, its 
obscurity, its strangeness, its unacceptableness, its 
severity, to require them to surrender themselves to 
the teaching of a few unlettered Galilseans, or a 
learned indeed but fanatical Pharisee. This is what 
they would have said then ; and if so, is it wonderful 
they do not become Catholics now? The simple 
account of their remaining as they are, is, that they 
lack one thing, — they have not faith ; it is a state of 
mind, it is a virtue, which they do not recognize to 
be praiseworthy, which they do not aim at possessing. 

What they feel now, my brethren, is just what 
Jew and Greek both felt before them in the time 
of the Apostles, and which the natural man has felt 
ever since. The great and wise men of the day 
looked down upon faith then as now, as if unworthy 
the dignity of human nature, " See your vocation, 
brethren, that not many are wise according to the 
flesh, not many mighty, not many noble ; but the 
foolish things of the world hath God chosen to con- 



216 



FAITH AND PRIVATE JUDGMENT. [Disc. 



found the strong, and the mean things of the world, 
and the things that are contemptible, hath God 
chosen, and things that are not, that He might 
destroy the things that are, that no flesh might 
glory in His sight." Hence the same Apostle speaks 
of " the foolishness of preaching." Similar to this 
is what our Lord had said in His prayer to the 
Father ; " I thank Thee, Father, Lord of heaven 
and earth, because Thou hast hid these things from 
the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto 
little ones." Now is it not plain that men of this 
day have just inherited the feelings and traditions of 
these falsely wise and fatally prudent persons in our 
Lord's day ? They have the same obstruction in 
their hearts to entering the Catholic Church, which 
Pharisees and Sophists had before them ; it goes 
against them to believe her doctrine, not so much 
from want of evidence that she is from God, as 
because, if so, they shall have to submit their minds 
to living men, who have not their own cultivation or 
depth of intellect, and because they must receive a 
number of doctrines, whether they will or no, which 
are strange to their imagination and difficult to their 
reason. The very character of the Catholic teaching 
and of the Catholic teacher is to them a preliminary 
objection to their becoming Catholics, so great, as to 
throw into the shade any argument, however strong, 
which is producible in behalf of the mission of those 
teachers and the origin of that teaching. In short, 
they have not faith. 



X.] FAITH AND PRIVATE JUDGMENT. 217 

They have not in them the principle of faith ; and 
I repeat, it is nothing to the purpose to urge that at 
least they firmly believe Scripture to be the word of 
God. In truth it is much to be feared that their 
acceptance of Scripture itself is nothing better than 
a prejudice or inveterate feeling impressed on them 
when they were children. A proof of it is this ; that, 
while they profess to be so shocked at Catholic 
miracles, and are not slow to call them " lying won- 
ders," they have no difficulty at all about Scripture 
narratives, which are quite as difficult to the reason 
as any miracles recorded in the history of the Saints. 
I have heard on the contrary of Catholics, who have 
been startled at first reading in Scripture the narra- 
tive of the ark in the deluge, of the tower of Babel, 
of Balaam and Balac, of the Israelites' flight from 
Egypt and entrance into the promised land, and of 
Esau's and of Saul's rejection ; which the bulk of 
Protestants receive without any effort of mind. 
How do these Catholics receive them ? by faith. 
They say, " God is true, and every man a liar." 
How come Protestants so easily to receive them ? by 
faith? I conceive that in most cases there is no 
submission of the reason at all ; simply they are so 
familiar with the passages in question, that the 
narrative presents no difficulties to their imagina- 
tion ; they have nothing to overcome. If, however, 
they are led to contemplate these passages in them- 
selves, and to try them in the balance of probability, 
and to begin to question about them, as will happen 



218 



FAITH AND PRIVATE JUDGMENT. 



[Disc. 



when their intellect is cultivated, then there is 
nothing to bring them back to their former habitual 
belief ; they know nothing of submitting on autho- 
rity, that is, of faith; they have no authority to 
submit to. They either remain in a state of doubt 
without any great trouble of mind, or they go on to 
ripen into utter disbelief on the subjects in question, 
though they say nothing about it. Neither before 
they doubt, nor when they doubt, is there any token 
of the presence in them of a power subjecting reason 
to the word of God. No; what looks like faith, is 
a mere hereditary persuasion, not a personal princi- 
ple : it is a feeling which they have learned in the 
nursery, which has never changed into any thing- 
higher, and which is scattered and disappears, like a 
mist, before the light, such as it is, of reason. If, 
however, there are Protestants, who are not in one 
or other of these two states, either of credulity or 
doubt, but who firmly believe in spite of all difficul- 
ties, they certainly have some claim to be considered 
under the influence of faith, but there is nothing to 
show that such persons are not in the way to become 
Catholics, and perhaps they are already called so by 
their friends, showing in their own examples the 
connexion which exists between possessing faith and 
joining the Church. 

If then faith be now the same faculty of mind, 
the same sort of habit or act, which it was in the 
days of the Apostles, I have made good what I set 
about showing. But it must be the same ; it cannot 



X.] 



FAITH AND PRIVATE JUDGMENT. 



219 



mean two things; the word cannot have changed 
its meaning ; either say it is not necessary now at 
all, or take it to be what the Apostles meant by it, 
but do not say you have it, and then show me some- 
thing quite different, which you have put in the 
place of it. In the Apostles' days the peculiarity of 
faith was submission to a living authority ; this is 
what made it so distinctive ; this is what made it an 
act of submission at all ; this is what destroyed pri- 
vate judgment in matters of religion. If you will 
not look out for a living authority, and will bargain 
for private judgment, then say at once that you have 
not Apostolic faith. And in fact you have it not ; 
the bulk of this nation has it not ; confess you have 
it not ; and then confess that this is the reason why 
you are not Catholics. You are not Catholics be- 
cause you have not faith. Why do not blind men 
see the sun ? because they have no eyes ; in like 
manner it is in vain to discourse upon the beauty, the 
sanctity, the sublimity of the Catholic doctrines and 
worship, where men have no faith to accept them as 
divine. They may confess their beauty, sublimity, and 
sanctity, without believing them ; they may acknow- 
ledge that the Catholic religion is noble and majes- 
tic : they may be struck with its wisdom, they may 
admire its adaptation to human nature, they may be 
penetrated by its tender and winning conduct, they 
may be awed by its consistency. But to commit 
themselves to it, that is another matter ; to choose 
it for their portion, to say with the favoured 



220 



FAITH AND PRIVATE JUDGMENT. 



[Disc. 



Moabitess, "Whithersoever thou shalt go, I will go ; 
and where thou shalt dwell, I will dwell ; thy 
people shall be my people, and thy God, my God," 
this is the language of faith. A man may revere, a 
man may extol, who has no tendency whatever to 
obey, no notion whatever of professing. And this 
often happens in fact : men are respectful to the 
Catholic religion ; they acknowledge its services to 
mankind, they encourage it and its professors ; they 
like to know them, they are interested in hearing of 
their movements, but they are not, and never will 
be Catholics. They will die, as they have lived, out 
of the Church, because they have not possessed 
themselves of that faculty by which the Church is to 
be approached. Catholics who have not studied 
them or human nature, will wonder they remain 
where they are ; nay, they themselves, alas for them, 
will sometimes lament they cannot become Catholics. 
They will feel so intimately the blessedness of being 
a Catholic, that they will cry out, " O what would I 
give to be a Catholic ! O that I could believe what 
I admire ! but I do not, and I can no more believe 
merely because I wish to do so, than I can leap over 
a mountain. I should be much happier, were I a 
Catholic ; but I am not : it is no use deceiviug 
myself ; I am what I am ; I revere, I cannot 
accept." 

O deplorable state ! deplorable because it is simply 
their own fault, and because such great stress is laid 
in Scripture, as they know, on the necessity of faith 



X.] 



FAITH AND PRIVATE JUDGMENT. 



221 



for salvation. Faith is there made the foundation 
and commencement of all acceptable obedience. It 
is described as the "argument" or "proof of things 
not seen ;" by faith men have understood that God 
is, that He made the world, that He is a re warder 
of those who seek Him, that the flood was coming, 
that the Saviour was to be born. " Without faith it 
is impossible to please God ;" " by faith we stand ;" 
" by faith we walk ;" " by faith we overcome the 
world." When our Lord gave to the Apostles their 
commission to preach all over the world, He con- 
tinued, " He that believeth, and is baptized, shall 
be saved ; but he that believeth not, shall be con- 
demned." And He declared to Nicodemus, " He 
that believeth in the Son, is not judged ; but he 
that doth not believe is already judged, because he 
believeth not in the Name of the Only-begotten 
Son of God." He said to the Pharisees, " If you 
believe not that I am He, ye shall die in your sins." 
To the Jews, " Ye believe not, because ye are not of 
My sheep." And you may recollect that before His 
miracles, He commonly demands faith of the sup- 
plicant ; " all things are possible," He says, " to him 
that believeth ;" and in a certain place " He could 
not do any miracle," on account of the unbelief of 
the inhabitants. Has faith changed its meaning, or 
is it less necessary now ? Is it not still what it was 
in the Apostles' day, the very characteristic of Chris- 
tianity, the special instrument of renovation, the 
first disposition for justification, one out of the three 



222 FAITH AND PRIVATE JUDGMENT. [Disc. 



theological virtues ? God might have renewed 
us by other means, by sight, by reason, by love, 
but He has chosen to " purify our hearts by 
faith :" it has been His will to select an instru- 
ment which the world despises, but which is of 
immense power. He preferred it, in His infinite 
wisdom, to every other : and if men have it not, they 
have not the very element and rudiment, out of 
which are formed, on which are built, the Saints 
and Servants of God. And they have it not, they 
are living, they are dying, without the hopes, with- 
out the aids of the Gospel, because, in spite of so 
much that is good in them, in spite of their sense of 
duty, their tenderness of conscience on many points, 
their benevolence, their uprightness, their generosity, 
they are under the dominion (I must say it) of a 
proud fiend ; they have this stout spirit within them ; 
they will be their own masters in matters of thought, 
about which they know so little ; they consider their 
own reason better than any one's else; they will not 
admit that any one comes from God who contradicts 
their own view of truth. What ! is none their equal 
in wisdom any where ? is there none other, whose 
word is to be taken on religion? is there none to 
wrest from them their ultimate appeal to themselves ? 
Have they in no possible way the opportunity of 
faith ? Is it a virtue, which in consequence of their 
transcendent sagacity, their prerogative of omni- 
science, they must despair of exercising ? If the 
pretensions of the Catholic Church do not satisfy 



X.] 



FAITH AND PRIVATE JUDGMENT. 



223 



them, let them go somewhere else, if they can. If 
they are so fastidious that they cannot trust her as 
the oracle of God, let them find another more cer- 
tainly from Him than the House of His own insti- 
tution, which has ever been called by His Name, 
has ever maintained the same claims, has ever taught 
one substance of doctrine, and has triumphed over 
those who preached any other. Since Apostolic faith 
was reliance on man's word as God's, since what faith 
was in the beginning such it is now, since faith is 
necessary for salvation, let them attempt to exercise 
it towards another, if they will not accept the Bride 
of the Lamb. Let them, if they can, put faith in 
some of those religions which have lasted a whole 
two or three centuries in a corner of the earth. Let 
them stake their eternal prospects on kings, and 
nobles, and parliaments, and soldiery, let them take 
some mere fiction of the law, or abortion of the 
schools, or idol of a populace, or upstart of a crisis, or 
oracle of lecture rooms, as the prophet of God. Alas ! 
they are hardly bested if they must possess a virtue, 
which they have no means of exercising; if they 
must make an act of faith, they know not on whom, 
and know not why ! 

What thanks ought we to render to Almighty 
God, my dear brethren, that He has made us what 
we are ! It is a matter of grace. There are, to be 
sure, many cogent arguments to lead one to join 
the Catholic Church, but they do not force the will. 
We may know them, and not be moved to act upon 



224 



FAITH AND PRIVATE JUDGMENT. 



[Disc. 



them. We may be convinced without being per- 
suaded. The two things are quite distinct from 
each other, seeing you ought to believe, and believ- 
ing ; reason, if left to itself, will bring you to the 
conclusion that you had sufficient grounds for be- 
lieving, but belief is the gift of grace. You are 
then what you are, not from any excellence or 
merit of your own, but by the grace of God who 
has chosen you to believe. You might have been 
as the barbarian of Africa, or the free-thinker of 
Europe, with grace sufficient to condemn you, be- 
cause it had not furthered your salvation. You 
might have had strong inspirations of grace and have 
resisted them, and then additional grace might not 
have been given to overcome your resistance. God 
gives not the same measure of grace to all ; has He 
not visited you with over-abundant grace ? and was 
it not necessary for your hard heart to receive more 
than other people? Praise and bless Him conti- 
nually for the benefit ; do not forget, as time 
goes on, that it is of grace ; do not pride yourselves 
upon it ; pray ever not to lose it ; and do your best to 
make others partakers of it. 

And you, my brethren also, if such be present, 
who are not as yet Catholics, but who by your 
coming hither seem to show your interest in our 
teaching, and your wish to know more about it, you 
too remember, that though you may not yet have 
faith, still the mercy of God has brought you into 
the way of obtaining it. You are under the influ- 



X.] 



FAITH AND PRIVATE JUDGMENT. 



225 



enee of God's grace ; He has brought you a step on 
your journey; He wishes to bring you further, He 
wishes to bestow on you the fulness of His blessings, 
and to make you Catholics. You are still in your 
sins ; probably you are laden with the guilt of many 
years, the accumulated guilt of many a deep mortal 
offence, which no contrition has washed away, and 
to which no Sacrament has been applied. You at 
present are troubled with an uneasy conscience, a 
dissatisfied reason, an unclean heart, and a divided 
will ; you need to be converted. Yet with all this 
the first suggestions of grace are working in your 
soul, and are to issue in pardon for the past and 
sanctity for the future. God is moving you to acts 
of faith, hope, love, hatred of sin, repentance ; do 
not disappoint Him, do not thwart Him, concur 
with Him, obey Him. You look up, and you see, 
as it were, a great mountain to be scaled ; you say, 
how can I possibly find a path over these giant 
obstacles, which I find in the way of my becoming 
Catholic % I do not comprehend this doctrine, and 
I am pained at that ; a third seems impossible ; I 
never can be familiar with one practice, I am afraid 
of another ; it is one maze and discomfort to me, 
and I am led to sink down in despair. Say not so, 
my dear brethren, look up in hope, trust in Him 
who calls you forward. " Who art thou, O great 
mountain, before Zorobabel \ but a plain." He 
will lead you forward step by step, as He has led 
forward many a one before you. He will make 



226 



FAITH AND PRIVATE JUDGMENT. 



the crooked straight and the rough plain. He will 
turn the streams, and dry up the rivers, which lie in 
your path. " He shall strengthen your feet like harts' 
feet, and set you up on high places. He shall widen 
your steps under you, and your tread shall not be 
weakened." " There is no God like the God of the 
righteous ; thy Helper is He that mounts the heaven ; 
by His mighty working the clouds disperse. His 
dwelling is above, and underneath are the everlasting 
arms ; He shall cast out the enemy from before thee, 
and shall say, Be brought to nought." "The young 
shall faint, and youths shall fall ; but they that hope 
in the Lord shall be new-fledged in strength, thev 
shall take feathers like eagles, they shall run and 
not labour, they shall walk and not faint." 



DISCOURSE XI 



FAITH AND DOUBT. 



Those who are drawn by curiosity or a better motive 
to inquire into the Catholic Religion, sometimes put 
to us a strange question, — whether, if they took up 
the profession of it, they should be at liberty, when 
they felt inclined, to reconsider the question of its 
divine authority, meaning, by "reconsideration" an 
inquiry springing from doubt of it, and possibly end- 
ing in a denial. The same question, in the form of 
an objection, is often asked by those who have no 
thoughts at all of becoming Catholics, and who 
enlarge upon it, as something terrible, that whoever 
once enters the pale of the Church, on him the door 
of egress is shut for ever ; that, once a Catholic, he 
never, never can doubt again ; that, whatever his 
misgivings may be, he must stifle them, nay must 
start from them as the suggestions of the evil spirit ; 
in short, that he must give up altogether the search 

Q 2 



228 



FAITH AND DOUBT. 



[Disc. 



after truth, and do a violence to his mind, which is 
nothing short of immoral. This is what is said, my 
brethren, by certain objectors, and their own view is, 
or ought to be, if they are consistent, this, — that 
it is a fault ever to make up our mind once for all 
on any religious subject whatever; and that, how- 
ever sacred a doctrine may be, and however evident 
to us, we ought always to reserve to ourselves the 
liberty of doubting about it. I cannot help thinking 
that so extravagant a position, as this is, confutes 
itself; however, I will consider the contrary, that is, 
the Catholic, view of the subject, on its own merits, 
though without admitting the language in which it 
was just now stated. 

It is then perfectly true, that the Church does not 
allow her children to entertain any doubt of her 
teaching ; and that, first of all, simply for this reason, 
because they are Catholics only while they have 
faith, and faith is incompatible with doubt. No 
one can be a Catholic without a simple faith, that 
what the Church declares in God's Name, is God's 
word, and therefore true. A man must simply 
believe that the Church is the oracle of God ; he 
must be as certain of her mission, as he is of the 
mission of the Apostles. Now, would any one ever 
call him certain that the Apostles came from God, 
if, after professing his certainty, he added, that, for 
what he knew, he might doubt one day about their 
mission ? Such an anticipation would be a real, 
though latent, doubt, betraying that he was not 



XL] 



FAITH AND DOUBT. 



229 



certain of it at present. A person who says, " I 
believe just at tins moment, but perhaps I am 
excited, without knowing it, and I cannot answer 
for myself, that I shall believe to-morrow," does not 
believe. A man who says, " Perhaps I am in a kind 
of delusion, which will one day pass away from me, 
and leave me as I was before ;" or, " I believe as far 
as I can tell, but there may be arguments in 
the background which will change my view," such a 
man has not faith at all. When then Protestants 
quarrel with us for saying that those who join us 
must give up all ideas of ever doubting the Church 
in time to come, they do nothing else but quarrel 
with us for insisting on the necessity of faith in her. 
Let them speak plainly ; our offence is that of 
demanding faith in the Holy Catholic Church, and 
nothing else. I must insist upon this : faith implies 
a confidence in a man's mind, that the thing believed 
is really true ; but, if it is true, it never can be false. 
If it is true that God became man, what is the 
meaning of my anticipating a time when perhaps I 
shall not believe that God became man? this is 
nothing short of anticipating a time when I shall 
disbelieve a truth. And if I bargain to be allowed 
in time to come not to believe, or to doubt, that 
God became man, I am asking to be allowed to 
doubt or to disbelieve what is an eternal truth. I 
do not see the privilege of such a permission at all, 
or the meaning of wishing to secure it ; if at present 
I have no doubt whatever about it, then I am but 



230 



FAITH AND DOUBT. 



[Disc. 



asking leave to fall into error ; if at present I have 
doubts about it, then I do not believe it at present, 
or I have not faith. But I cannot really believe it 
now, and yet look forward to a time when perhaps 
I shall not believe it ; to make provision for future 
doubt, is to doubt at present. It proves I am not 
in a fit state to become a Catholic now. I may love 
by halves, I may obey by halves : I cannot believe 
by halves : either I have faith, or I have it not. 

And so again, when a man has become a Catholic, 
were he to set about following out a doubt which 
has occurred to him, he has already disbelieved. / 
have not to warn him against losing his faith, he is 
not merely in danger of losing it, he has lost it; 
from the nature of the case he has already lost it ; 
he fell from grace at the moment when he deli- 
berately determined to pursue his doubt. No one 
can determine to doubt what he is sure of; but if 
he is not sure that the Church is from God, he does 
not believe it. It is not I who forbid him to doubt; 
he has taken the matter into his own hands, when 
he determined on asking for leave ; he has begun, 
not ended in unbelief ; his wish, his purpose is his 
sin. I do not make it so, it is such from the very 
state of the case. You sometimes hear, for example, 
of Catholics falling away, who will tell you it arose 
from reading the Scriptures, which opened their 
eyes to the " unscripturalness," so they speak, of the 
Church of the Living God. No ; Scripture did 
not make them disbelieve ; (impossible !) they dis- 



XL] 



FAITH AND DOUBT. 



231 



believed when they opened the Bible ; they opened 
it in an unbelieving spirit, and for an unbelieving 
purpose; they would not have opened it, had 
they not anticipated, I might say hoped, that they 
should find things there inconsistent with Catholic 
teaching. They begin in pride and disobedience, 
and they end in apostasy. This then is the 
direct and obvious reason why the Church cannot 
allow her children the liberty of doubting the 
truth of her word. He who really believes in it 
now, cannot imagine the future discovery of 
reasons to shake his faith ; if he imagines it, he 
has not faith; and that so many Protestants think 
it a sort of tyranny in the Church to forbid 
any children of hers to doubt about her teaching, 
only shows they do not know what faith is, — which 
is the case; it is a strange idea to them. Let a 
man cease to examine, or cease to call himself her 
child. 

This is my first remark, and now I go on to a 
second. You may easily conceive, my brethren, 
that they who are entering the Church, or at least 
those who have entered it, have more than faith ; 
that they have some portion of divine love also. 
They have heard in the Church of the charity of 
Him who died for them, and who has given them 
His seven Sacraments as the means of conveying the 
merits of His death to their souls, and they have felt 
more or less in those poor souls the beginnings of 
a responsive charity drawing them to Him. Now 



232 



FAITH AND DOUBT. 



[Disc. 



does it stand with a loving trust, better than with 
faith, to anticipate the possibility of doubting or 
denying the great mercies in which one is rejoicing? 
Take an instance ; what would you think of a friend 
whom you loved, who could bargain that, in spite of 
his present trust in you, he might be allowed some 
day to doubt you? who, when a thought came 
into his mind, that you were playing a game with 
him, or that you were a knave, or a profligate, did 
not drive it from him with indignation, or laugh it 
away for its absurdity, but considered that he had 
an evident right to indulge it, nay, should be 
wanting in duty to himself, unless he did ? Would 
you think that your friend trifled with truth, that he 
was unjust to his reason, that he was wanting in 
manliness, that he was hurting his mind, if he shrank 
from it, or would you call him cruel and miserable 
if he did not ? For me, my brethren, if he took the 
latter course, may I never be intimate with so 
unpleasant a person ; suspicious, jealous minds, 
minds that keep at a distance from me, that insist 
on their rights, fall back on their own centre, are ever 
fancying offences, and are cold, censorious, way- 
ward, and uncertain, these are often to be borne as 
a cross ; but give me for my friend one who will 
unite heart and hand with me, who will throw him- 
self into my cause and interest, who will take my 
part when I am attacked, who will be sure beforehand 
that I am in the right, and, if he is critical, as he 
may have cause to be towards a being of sin and 



XL] 



FAITH AND DOUBT. 



233 



imperfection, will be so from very love and loyalty, 
from anxiety that I should always show to ad- 
vantage, and a wish that others should love me as 
heartily as he. I should not say a friend trusted 
me, who listened to every idle story against me; 
and I should like his absence better than his com- 
pany, if he gravely told me that it was a duty he 
owed himself to encourage his misgivings of my 
honour. 

Well, pass on to a higher subject; — could a man 
be said to trust in God, and to love God, who was 
familiar with doubts whether there was a God at all, 
or who bargained that, just as often as he pleased, he 
might be at liberty to doubt whether God was good 
or just, or almighty ; and who maintained that, 
unless he did this, he was but a poor slave, that his 
mind was in bondage, and could render no free 
acceptable service to his Maker ; — that the very wor- 
ship which God liked, was one attended with a caveat, 
on the worshipper's part, that he did not promise to 
render it to-morrow, that he would not answer for 
himself that some argument might not come to 
light, which he had never heard before, which 
would make it a grave moral duty in him to suspend 
his judgment and his devotion 1 Why, I should say, 
my brethren, that that man was worshipping his own 
mind, his own dear self, and not God ; that his idea 
of God was a mere accidental form which his 
thoughts took at this time or that, for a long period 
or a short one, as the case might be, not an image of 



234< 



FAITH AND DOUBT. 



[Disc. 



the great Eternal Object, but a passing sentiment or 
imagination which meant nothing at all. I should 
say, and most men would agree, did they choose to 
give attention to the matter, that the person in 
question was a very self-conceited, self-wise man, 
and had neither love, nor faith, nor fear, nor any 
thing supernatural about him ; that his pride must 
be broken, and his heart new made, before he was 
capable of any religious act at all. The argu- 
ment is the same, in its degree, when applied to the 
Church ; she comes to us, as a messenger from God, 
how can any one who feels this, who comes to her, 
who falls at her feet as such, make a reserve, that he 
may be allowed to doubt her at some future day? 
Let the world cry out, if it will, that his reason is in 
fetters; let it pronounce that he is a bigot, if he 
does not preserve his right of doubting ; but he 
knows full well that he would be an ingrate and a 
fool, if he did. Fetters indeed ! yes, " the cords of 
Adam," the fetters of love, these are what bind him 
to the Holy Church; he is with the Apostle, the 
slave of Christ, the Lord of the Church ; united, never 
to part, as he trusts, while life lasts, to her Sacra- 
ments, to her Sacrifices, to her Saints, to Mary, to 
Jesus, to God. 

The truth is, that the world, knowing nothing of 
the blessings of the Catholic faith, and prophesy- 
ing nothing but ill concerning it, fancies that a con- 
vert, after the first fervour is over, feels nothing 
but disappointment, weariness, and offence in his 



XI.] 



FAITH AND DOUBT. 



235 



new religion, and is secretly desirous of retracing 
his steps. This is at the root of the alarm and 
irritation which it manifests at hearing that doubts 
are incompatible with a Catholic's profession, because 
it is sure that doubts will come upon him, and then 
how pitiable will be his state ! That there can be 
peace and joy and knowledge and freedom and 
spiritual strength in the Church, is a thought far 
beyond its imagination; for it regards her simply 
as a frightful conspiracy against the happiness of 
man, seducing her victims by specious professions, 
and, when they are once hers, caring nothing for the 
misery which breaks upon them, so that by any 
means she may detain them in bondage. Accord- 
ingly it conceives we are in perpetual warfare with 
our own reason, fierce objections ever rising, and we 
forcibly repressing them. It believes that, after the 
likeness of a vessel which has met with some acci- 
dent at sea, we are ever baling out the water which 
rushes in upon us, and have hard work to keep 
afloat ; we just manage to linger on, either by an 
unnatural strain on our minds, or by turning them 
away from the subject of religion. The world dis- 
believes our doctrines itself, and cannot understand 
our own believing them. It considers them so 
strange, that it is quite sure, though we will not 
confess it, that we are haunted day and night with 
doubts, and tormented with the apprehension of 
yielding to them. I really do think, that in the 
world's judgment, one principal part of a confessor's 



236 



FAITH AND DOUBT. 



[Disc. 



work is the putting down such misgivings of his 
penitents. It fancies that the reason is ever rebel- 
ling like the flesh ; that doubt, like concupiscence, is 
elicited by every sight and sound, and that tempta- 
tion insinuates itself in every page of letter-press 
and through the very voice of a Protestant polemie. 
When it sees a Catholic Priest, it looks hard at him, 
to make out how much there is in his composition 
of folly, and how much of hypocrisy. But, my dear 
brethren, if these are your thoughts, you are simply 
in error. Trust me, rather than the world, when I 
tell you, that it is no difficult thing for a Catholic to 
believe ; and that unless he grievously mismanages 
himself, the difficult thing is for him to doubt. He 
has received a gift which makes faith easy ; it is not 
without an effort, a miserable effort, that any one 
who has received that gift, unlearns to believe. He 
does violence to his mind, not in exercising, but in 
withholding his faith. When objections occur to 
him, which they may easily do if he lives in the 
world, they are as odious and unwelcome to him as 
impure thoughts to the virtuous. He does certainly 
shrink from them, he flings them away from him, 
but why ? not in the first instance because they are 
dangerous, but because they are cruel and base. 
His loving Lord has done every thing for him, and 
has He deserved such a return ? Popule mens, quid 
feci tibi f " O My people, what have I done to thee, 
or in what have I molested thee ? answer thou Me. 
I brought thee out of the land of Egypt, and deli- 



XL] 



FAITH AND DOUBT. 



237 



vered thee out of the house of slaves ; and I sent 
before thy face Moses, and Aaron, and Mary; I 
fenced thee in and planted thee with the choicest 
vines ; and what is there that I ought to do more to 
My vineyard that I have not done to it?" He has 
poured on us His grace, He has been with us in our 
perplexities, He has led us on from one truth to 
another, He has forgiven us our sins, He has satisfied 
our reason, He has made faith easy, He has given 
us His Saints, He shows before us day by day His 
own Passion ; why should I leave Him ? What has 
He ever done to me but good \ Why must I re- 
examine what I have examined once for all ? Why 
must I listen to every idle word which flits past me 
against Him, on pain of being called a bigot and a 
slave, when I should be behaving to the Most High, 
as you yourselves, who so call me, would not behave 
towards a human friend or benefactor? If I am 
convinced in my reason, and persuaded in my heart, 
why may I not be allowed to remain unmolested in 
my worship ? 

I have said enough on the subject ; still there is a 
third point of view in which it may be useful to 
consider it. Personal prudence is not the first or 
second ground for turning away from objections to 
the Church, but a motive it is, and that from the 
peculiar nature of divine faith, which cannot be 
treated as an ordinary conviction or belief. Faith 
is the gift of God, and not a mere act of our own, 
which we are free to exert when we will. It is quite 



238 



FAITH AND DOUBT. 



[Disc. 



distinct from an exercise of reason, though it follows 
upon it. I may feel the force of the argument for 
the divine origin of the Church ; I may see that I 
ought to believe ; and yet I may be unable to 
believe. This is no imaginary case ; there is many 
a man who has ground enough to believe, who 
wishes to believe, but who cannot believe. It is 
always indeed his own fault, for God gives grace to 
all who ask for it, and use it, but still such is the 
fact, that conviction is not faith. Take the pa- 
rallel case of obedience ; many a man knows he 
ought to obey God, and does not and cannot, — 
through his own fault indeed, but still he cannot ; 
for through grace alone can he obey. Now faith is 
not a mere conviction in reason, it is a firm assent, it 
is a clear certainty greater than any other certainty ; 
and this is wrought in the mind by the grace of 
God, and by it alone. As then men may be con- 
vinced, and not act according to their conviction, so 
may they be convinced, and not believe according 
to their conviction. They may confess that the 
argument is against them, that they have nothing 
to say for themselves, and that to believe is to 
be happy; and yet after all, they avow they cannot 
believe, they do not know why, but they cannot ; 
they acquiesce in unbelief, and they turn away from 
God and His Church. Their reason is convinced, 
and their doubts are moral ones, arising from a fault 
of the will. In a word, the arguments for religion 
do not compel any one to believe, just as arguments 



XL] FAITH AND DOUBT. 239 

for good conduct do not compel any one to obey. 
Obedience is the consequence of willing to obey, 
and faith is the consequence of willing to believe ; 
we may see what is right, whether in matters of faith 
or obedience of ourselves, but we cannot will what 
is right without the grace of God. Here is the 
difference between other exercises of reason, and 
arguments for the truth of religion. It requires no 
act of faith to assent to the truth that two and two 
make four ; we cannot help assenting to it ; and 
hence there is no merit in assenting to it ; but there 
is merit in believing that the Church is from God ; 
for though there are abundant reasons to prove it to 
us, yet we can, without an absurdity, quarrel with 
the conclusion ; we may complain that it is not 
clearer, we may suspend our assent, we may doubt 
about it, if we will, and grace alone can turn a bad 
will into a good one. 

And now you see, why a Catholic dare not in 
prudence attend to such objections as are brought 
against his faith ; he has no fear of their proving 
that the Church does not come from God, but he is 
afraid, if he listened to them without reason, lest 
God should punish him by the loss of his super- 
natural faith. This is one cause of that miserable 
state of mind, to which I have already alluded, in 
which men would fain be Catholics, and are not. 
They have trifled with conviction, they have listened 
to arguments against what they knew to be true, 
and a deadness of mind has fallen on them ; faith 



240 



FAITH AND DOUBT. 



[Disc. 



has failed them, and, as time goes on, they betray in 
their words and their actions, the judgment of God, 
with which they are visited. They become careless 
and unconcerned, or restless and unhappy, or impa- 
tient of contradiction ; ever asking advice and quar- 
relling with it when given ; not attempting to 
answer the arguments urged against them, but sim- 
ply not believing. This is the whole of their case, 
they do not believe. And then it is quite an acci- 
dent what becomes of them ; perhaps they continue 
on in this perplexed and comfortless state, lingering 
about the Church, yet not of her ; not knowing what 
they believe and what they do not, like blind men, 
or men deranged, who are deprived of the eye, 
whether of body or soul, and cannot guide them- 
selves in consequence ; ever exciting hopes of a 
return, and ever disappointing them ; — or, if they are 
men of more vigorous minds, they launch forward in 
a course of infidelity, not really believing less, as 
they proceed, for from the first they believed no- 
thing, but taking up, as time goes on, more and 
more consistent forms of error, till at last, if a free 
field is given them, they develop into atheism. 
Such is the end of those who, under the pretence of 
inquiring after truth, trifle with conviction. 

Here then are some of the reasons why the Catho- 
lic Church cannot consistently allow her children to 
doubt the divinity and the truth of her words. 
Mere inquiry indeed into the grounds of our faith 
is not to doubt ; nor is it doubting to consider the 



XI.] 



FAITH AND DOUBT. 



241 



arguments urged against it, when there is good 
reason for doing so ; but I am speaking of a real 
doubt, or a wanton entertainment of objections. 
Such a procedure the Church denounces, and not 
only for the reasons which I have assigned, but 
because it would be a plain abandonment of her 
office and character to act otherwise. How can she, 
who has the prerogative of infallibility, allow her 
children to doubt of her gift ? It would be a simple 
inconsistency in her, who is the sure oracle of truth 
and messenger of heaven, to admit of rebels to her 
authority. She simply does what the Apostles did 
before her, whom she has succeeded. " He that 
despiseth," says St. Paul, " despiseth not man, but 
God, who hath also given in us His Holy Spirit." 
And St. John, " We are of God ; he that knoweth 
God, heareth us ; he that is not of God, heareth us 
not ; by this we know the spirit of truth and the 
spirit of error." There is a remarkable instance in 
the Old Testament also, which teaches us at once 
the incongruity of doubt in those who make a reli- 
gious profession, and the conduct of the Church in 
regard to them. When Elias was taken up into 
heaven, Eliseus was the only witness of the miracle ; 
when then he came back to the sons of the Prophets, 
they doubted what had become of Elias, and wished 
to search for him ; and, though they acknowledged 
Eliseus as his successor, they in this instance refused 
to take his word. He had struck the waters of 
Jordan, they had divided, and he had passed over; 

R 



FAITH AND DOUBT. 



[Disc. 



here surety was ground enough for faith, and accord- 
ingly "the sons of the prophets at Jericho, who 
were over against him, seeing it, said, The spirit of 
Elias hath rested upon Eliseus ; and they came to 
meet him, and worshipped him, falling to the 
ground." What could they require more ? they 
confessed that Eliseus had the spirit of his great 
master, and, in confessing it, implied that that 
master was taken away: yet, they proceed, from 
infirmity of mind, to make a request indicative of 
doubt ; " Behold, there are with thy servants fifty 
strong men, that can go and search for thy master, 
lest perhaps the Spirit of the Lord hath taken him 
up, and cast him upon some mountain or into some 
valley." Now here was a request to follow up a 
doubt into an inquiry ; did Eliseus allow it ? he 
knew perfectly well, that the inquiry would but end, 
as it really ended, in confirmation of the truth, but 
it was indulging a wrong spirit to engage in it, and 
he would not allow it. These religious men were, 
as he would feel, strangely inconsistent ; they were 
doubting his word whom they had just now wor- 
shipped as a Prophet, and, not only so, but they were 
doubting his supreme authority, for they implied 
that Elias was still among them. Accordingly he for- 
bad their request ; " He said, Send not." This is what 
the world would call stifling an inquiry; it was, 
forsooth, tyrannical and oppressive to oblige them to 
take on his word what they might ascertain for 
themselves ; yet he could not do otherwise without 



XL] 



FAITH AND DOUBT. 



243 



being unfaithful to his divine mission, and sanction- 
ing them in a sin. It is true, when " they pressed 
him, he consented, and said, Send ;" but we must 
not suppose this to be more than a concession in dis- 
pleasure, like that which Almighty God gave to 
Balaam, who pressed his request in a similar way. 
When Balaam asked to go with the ancients of 
Moab, God said, " Thou shalt not go with them ;" 
when Balaam asked Him " once more," " God said 
to him, Arise, and go with them ;" then it is 
added, "Balaam went with them, and God was 
angry." Here in like manner, the prophet said, 
Send ; " and they sent fifty men, and they sought 
three days, but found him not ;" yet, though the 
inquiry did but prove that Elias was removed, 
Eliseus did not recognize it, even when it was con- 
cluded ; " and he said to them, Said I not to you, 
Send not?" It is thus that the Church ever forbids 
inquiry in those who already acknowledge her autho- 
rity ; but, if they will inquire, she cannot hinder it ; 
but they sin in doing so. 

And now I think you see, my brethren, why 
inquiry precedes faith, and does not follow it. You 
inquired before you joined the Church; you were 
satisfied, and God rewarded you with the grace of 
faith ; were you now determined to inquire further, 
you would lead us to think you had lost it again, for 
inquiry and faith are in their very nature incompati- 
ble. I will add, what is very evident, that no body 
or person has a right to your faith, and a right to 

r 2 



FAITH AND DOUBT. 



[Disc. 



forbid further inquiry, but the Catholic Church; 
and for this single reason, that no other body even 
claims to be infallible, let alone the proof of such a 
claim. Here is the defect at first starting, which 
disqualifies them, one and all, from ever competing 
with the Church of God. The religions about us, 
so far from demanding your faith, actually call on 
you to inquire and to doubt freely about themselves ; 
they protest that they are but voluntary associations, 
and would be sorry to be taken for any thing else ; 
they beg and pray you not to mistake their preachers 
for any thing more than mere sinful men, and they 
invite you to take the Bible with you to their ser- 
mons, and to judge for yourselves whether their 
doctrine is in accordance with it. Then, as to the 
Established Religion, grant that there are those in it 
who forbid inquiry ; yet dare they maintain that their 
Church, as they speak, is infallible ? if not, and no 
one does, how can they forbid inquiry about it, or 
claim for it the faith of any of its members ? Faith 
under these circumstances is not really faith, but ob- 
stinacy. Nor do they commonly venture to demand 
it ; they will say, negatively, " Do not inquire ;" but 
they cannot positively, " Have faith ;" for in whom 
are their members to have faith ? of whom can they 
say, individual or collection of men, " He or they 
are gifted with infallibility, and cannot mislead us?" 
Therefore, when pressed to explain themselves, they 
ground their duty of continuance in their communion, 
not on faith in it, but on attachment to it, which is a 



XL] 



FAITH AND DOUBT. 



215 



very different thing ; utterly different, for there are 
very many reasons why they should feel a very great 
liking for the religion in which they have been 
brought up. Its portions of Catholic teaching, its 
established forms, the pure and beautiful English of 
its prayers, its literature, the piety found among its 
members, the influence of superiors and friends, its 
historical associations, its domestic character, the 
charm of a country life, the remembrance of past 
years, — there is all this and much more to attach the 
mind to the national worship. But attachment is 
not trust ; nor is to obey the same as to look up to, 
and to rely upon ; nor do I think that any thought- 
ful and educated man can simply believe or confide 
in its word. I never met any such person who 
did, or said he did, and I do not think that such a 
person is possible. Its defenders would believe if 
they could ; but their highest confidence is qualified 
by a misgiving. They obey, they are silent before 
the voice of their superiors, they do not profess to 
believe. Nothing is clearer than this, that, if faith 
in God's word is necessary for salvation, the Catholic 
Church is the only medium of exercising it. 

And now, my brethren, who are not Catholics, 
perhaps you will tell me, that, if all doubt is to cease 
when you become Catholics, you ought to be very 
sure that the Church is from God before you join it. 
You speak truly; no one should enter the Church 
without a firm purpose of taking her word in all 
matters of doctrine and morals, and that, on the 



216 



FAITH AND DOUBT. 



[Disc. 



ground of her coming directly from the God of 
Truth. You must look the matter in the face, and 
count the cost. If } 7 ou do not come in this spirit, 
you may as well not come at all ; high and low, 
learned and ignorant, must come to learn. If you 
are right as far as this, you cannot go very wrong ; 
you have the foundation ; but, if you come in any 
other temper, you had better wait till you have got 
rid of it. You must come, I say, to the Church 
to learn ; you must come, not to bring your own 
notions to her, but with the intention of ever being 
a learner ; you must come with the intention of 
making her your portion and of never leaving her. 
Do not come as an experiment ; do not come as you 
would take sittings in a chapel, or tickets for a 
lecture-room ; come to her as to your home, to 
the school of your soul, to the Mother of Saints, 
and to the vestibule of heaven. On the other 
hand do not distress yourselves with thoughts 
whether your faith will last, when you have joined 
her; this is a suggestion of your Enemy to hold 
you back. He who has begun a good work in you, 
will perfect it; He who has chosen you, will be 
faithful to you ; put your cause in His hand, wait 
upon Him, and you will surely persevere. What 
good work will you ever begin, if you bargain first to 
see the end of it ? If you wish to do all at once, you 
will do nothing; he has done half the work, who 
has begun it well ; you will not gain your Lord's 
praise at the final reckoning by hiding His talent. 



XL] 



FAITH AND DOUBT. 



217 



No ; when He brings you from error to truth, He 
will have done the more difficult work, (if aught is 
difficult to Him,) and surely He will preserve you 
from returning from truth to error. Take the 
experience of those who have gone before you in 
the same course ; they had many fears that their 
faith would fail them, before taking the great step, 
but those fears vanished on their taking it; they 
had fears, before the grace of faith, lest, after receiv- 
ing it, they should lose it again ; none, (except on 
the ground of their general frailness,) after it was 
actually given. 

Be convinced in your reason that the Catholic 
Church is a teacher sent to you from God, and it is 
enough. I do not wish you to join her, till you 
are. If you are half convinced, pray for a full 
conviction, and wait till you have it. It is better 
indeed to come quickly, but better slowly than 
carelessly ; and sometimes, as the proverb goes, the 
more haste, the worse speed. Only be sure that 
the delay is not from any fault of yours, which you 
can remedy. God deals with us very differently; 
conviction comes slowly to some, quickly to others ; 
in some it is the result of much thought and many 
arguments, in others it comes promptly and deci- 
sively. One man is convinced at once, as in the 
instance described by St. Paul : " If all prophesy," he 
says, speaking of exposition of doctrine, " and there 
come in one that believeth not, or one unlearned, he 
is convinced of all, he is judged of all. The secrets 



248 



FAITH AND DOUBT. 



[Disc. 



of his heart are made manifest ; and so, falling down 
on his face, he will worship God, and say that God 
is among you of a truth." The case is the same 
now ; some men are converted merely by entering a 
Catholic Church ; others are converted by reading 
one book ; others by one doctrine. They feel the 
weight of their sins, and they see that that religion 
must come from God, which alone has the means of 
forgiving them. Or they are touched and overcome 
by the evident sanctity, beauty, and (as I may say) 
fragrance of the Catholic Religion. Or they long 
for a guide amid the strife of tongues ; and the very 
doctrine of the Church about faith, which is so hard 
to many, is conviction to them. Others, again, hear 
many objections to the Church, and follow out the 
whole subject far and wide ; conviction can scarcely 
come to them except as at the end of a long inquiry. 
As in a court of justice, one man's innocence may be 
proved at once, another's is the result of a careful 
investigation ; one has nothing in his conduct or 
character to explain, another has many presumptions 
against him at first sight : so Holy Church presents 
herself very differently to different minds who are 
contemplating her from without. God deals with 
them differently, but, if they are faithful to their 
light, at last, in their own time, though it may be a 
different time to each, He brings them to that one 
and the same state of mind, very definite and not to 
be mistaken, which we call conviction. They will 
have no doubt, whatever difficulties shall attach to 



XI.] 



FAITH AND DOUBT. 



2¥J 



the truth, that the Church is from God ; they may 
not be able to answer this objection or that, but 
they wiil be certain in spite of them. 

This is a point which should ever be kept in view : 
conviction is a state of mind, and it is something be- 
yond and distinct from the mere arguments of which it 
is the result ; it does not vary with their strength or 
their number. Arguments lead to a conclusion, and 
when the arguments are stronger, the conclusion is 
clearer; but conviction may be felt as strongly in 
consequence of a clear conclusion as of one which is 
clearer. A man may be so sure upon six reasons, 
that he does not need a seventh, nor would feel 
surer if he had it. And so as regards the Catholic 
Church : men are convinced in very various ways, 
what convinces one, does not convince another ; but 
this is an accident ; the time comes any how, sooner 
or later, when a man ought to be convinced, and is 
convinced, and then he is bound not to wait for any 
more arguments, though they are producible. He 
will be in a condition to refuse more arguments, and 
will perhaps own that he has heard enough ; he does 
not wish to read or think more, his mind is quite 
made up. Then it is his duty to join the Church at 
once ; he must not delay ; let him be cautious in 
counsel, but prompt in execution. This it is that 
makes Catholics so anxious about him : it is not 
that they wdsh him to be precipitate ; but, knowing 
the temptations which the evil one ever throws in 
our way, they are lovingly anxious for his soul, lest 



250 



FAITH AND DOUBT. 



[Disc. 



lie has come to the point of conviction, and is 
passing it, and is losing his chance of conversion. If 
so, it may never return ; God has not chosen every 
one to salvation : it is a rare gift to be a Catholic ; 
it may be offered us once in our lives and never 
again ; and, if we have not seized on the " accepted 
time," nor known "in our day the things which 
are for our peace," O the misery for us ! What 
shall we be able to say, when death comes, and we 
are not converted, and it is directly and immediately 
our own doing that we are not ? 

" Wisdom preacheth abroad, she uttereth her voice 
in the streets: How long, ye little ones, love ye 
childishness? and fools covet what is hurtful to 
them, and the unwise hate knowledge? Turn ye at 
My reproof ; behold, I will bring forth to you 
My Spirit, and I will show My words unto you. 
Because I have called, and ye refused, I stretched 
out My hand, and there was none who regarded, 
and ye despised all My counsel and neglected My 
chidings ; I also will laugh in your destruction, 
and will mock when that shall come to us which you 
feared ; when a sudden storm shall rush on you, and 
destruction shall thicken as a tempest, when tribula- 
tion, and straitness shall come upon you. Then shall 
they call on Me, and I will not hear; they shall rise 
betimes, but they shall not find Me ; for that they 
hated discipline, and took not on them the fear of the 
Lord, nor acquiesced in My counsel, but made light 
of My reproof, therefore shall they eat the fruit 



XL] 



FAITH AND DOUBT. 



251 



of their own way, and be filled with their own 
devices." 

O the misery for us, as many of us as shall be in 
that number ! the awful thought for all eternity, 
O the remorseful sting, " I was called, I might have 
answered, and I did not." And O the blessedness, 
if we can look back on the time of trial, when 
friends implored and enemies scoffed, and say, — The 
misery for me, not now, but which would have been, 
had I not followed on, had I hung back, when 
Christ called ! O the utter confusion of mind, the 
wreck of faith and opinion, the blackness and void, 
the dreary scepticism, the hopelessness, which would 
have been my lot, the pledge of the outer darkness 
to come, had I been afraid to follow Him ! I have 
lost friends, I have lost the world, but I have gained 
Him, who gives in Himself houses and brethren and 
sisters and mothers and children and lands a hun- 
dred-fold ; I have lost the perishable, and gained 
the Infinite ; I have lost time, and I have gained 
eternity ; " Lord, my God, I am Thy servant and 
the son of Thine handmaid ; Thou hast broken my 
bonds. I will sacrifice to Thee the sacrifice of praise, 
and I will call on the Name of the Lord." 



DISCOURSE XII. 



PROSPECTS OF THE CATHOLIC MISSIOXER. 



A strange time this may seem to some of you, my 
brethren, and a strange place, to commence an en- 
terprize such as that, which, relying on God's mercy, 
we are undertaking this day. In this huge city, 
amid a population of human beings, so vast that 
each is solitary, so various that each is independent, 
which, like the ocean, yields before and closes over 
every attempt made to influence and impress it, in this 
mere ao-oregate of individuals, which admits of nei- 
ther change nor reform, because it has no internal 
order, or disposition of parts, or mutual dependence, 
because it has nothing to change from and nothing to 
change to, where no one knows his next door neigh- 
bour, but every where are found a thousand worlds, 
each pursuing its own functions unimpeded by the 

1 This Discourse was delivered in substance at the opening of 
the London Oratory. 



PROSPECTS OF THE CATHOLIC MISSIONER. 253 



rest, bow can we, how can a handful of men, do any 
service worthy the Lord who has called us, and the 
objects to which our lives are dedicated ? " Cry 
aloud, spare not!" says the Prophet; well may he 
say it ! no room for sparing ; what cry is loud 
enough, except the last trump of God, to pierce the 
omnipresent din of turmoil and of effort, which 
rises, like an exhalation from the very earth, and 
to cleave the dense mass heaped up behind the 
public thoroughfare in a maze of buildings known 
only to those who live in them ? It is but a fool's 
work to essay the impossible; keep to your own 
place, and you are respectable ; tend your sheep in 
the wilderness, and you are intelligible ; build upon 
the old foundations, and you are safe ; but begin 
nothing new, make no experiments, quicken not the 
action, nor strain the powers, nor complicate the 
responsibilities of your Mother, lest in her old age you 
bring her to shame, and the idlers laugh at her who 
once bare many children, but now is waxed feeble. 

And this is another thing, the time ; the time of 
coming hither ! now, when you rest on no immove- 
able centre, as of old, when you are not what you 
were lately, when your life is in jeopardy, your 
future in suspense, your Master in exile; look at 
home, you have enough to do at home. Look to 
the Rock whence ye were cut, and to the quarry 
whence ye were chopped ! Where is Peter now ? 
Magni nominis umbra, as the heathen author says: 
an aged cause, noble in its time, but of a past day ; 



254 



PROSPECTS OF 



[Disc. 



nay, true and divine in its time, as far as any thing 
can be such, but false now, and of the earth now, 
because it is failing now, bent with the weight of 
eighteen hundred years, tottering to its fall ; for 
with Englishmen, you should know, success is the 
measure of principle, and power is the exponent of 
right. Do you not understand our rule of action ? 
we take up men and lay them down, we praise or 
we blame, we feel respect or contempt, according 
as they succeed or are defeated. You are wrong, 
because you are in misfortune ; power is truth. 
Wealth is power, intellect is power, good name is 
power, knowledge is power ; we venerate wealth, 
intellect, name, knowledge. Intellect we know, 
and wealth we know, but who are ye ? what have 
we to do with the ghosts of an old world and the 
types of a former organization ? 

It is true, my brethren, this is a strange time, a 
strange place to be beginning our work. A strange 
place for Saints and Angels to pitch their tabernacles 
in, this metropolis ; strange, — I will not say for 
thee, my Mother Mary, to be found in ; for no part 
of the Catholic inheritance is foreign to thee, and 
thou art every where, where the Church is found, 
Porta manes et Stella maris, the constant object of 
her devotion, and the universal advocate of her 
children, — not strange to thee, but strange enough 
to him, my own Saint and Master, Philip Neri. 
Yes, dear Father, it is strange for thee, to pass from 
the bright calm cities of the South to this scene of 



XII.] 



THE CATHOLIC MISSIONER. 



255 



godless toil and self-trusting adventure ; strange for 
thee to be seen hurrying to and fro across our 
crowded streets, in thy grave black cassock, and thy 
white collar, instead of moving at thy own pace 
amid the open ways or vacant spaces of the great 
City, where, God guiding thy young meditations, 
thou didst for life and death fix thy habitation. 
Yes; it is very strange to the world, but no new 
thing to her, the Bride of the Lamb, whose very 
being and primary gifts are stranger in the eyes of 
unbelief and pride, than any details of place or con- 
duct which follow from them. It is no new thing 
in her, who came in the beginning as a wanderer 
upon earth, and whose empire is a continual con- 
quest. 

In such a time as this, did the prince of the 
Apostles, the first Pope, advance towards the hea- 
then city, where, under a divine guidance, he was to 
fix his seat. He toiled along the stately road which 
led him straight onwards to the capital of the world. 
He met throngs of the idle and the busy, of strangers 
and natives, who peopled the interminable suburb. 
He passed under the high gate, and wandered on 
amid marble palaces and columned temples ; he met 
processions of heathen priests and ministers in 
honour of their idols ; he met the wealthy lady, 
borne on her litter by her slaves ; he met the stern 
legionaries who had been the " massive iron ham- 
mers" of the whole earth ; he met the busy poli- 
tician with his ready man of business at his side to 



256 



PROSPECTS OF 



[Disc. 



prompt him on his canvass for popularity ; he met 
the orator returning home from a successful pleading, 
with his young admirers and his grateful or hopeful 
clients. He saw about him nothing but tokens of 
a vigorous power, grown up into a definite establish- 
ment, formed and matured in its religion, its laws, its 
civil traditions, its imperial extension, through the 
history of many centuries ; and what was he but a 
poor, feeble, aged stranger, in nothing different from 
the multitude of men, an Egyptian or a Chaldean, or 
perhaps a Jew, some Eastern or other, as passers by 
would guess according to their knowledge of human 
kind, carelessly looking at him, as we might turn 
our eyes upon Hindoo or gipsy, as they met us, 
without the shadow of a thought that such a one 
was destined then to commence an age of religious 
sovereignty, in which the heathen state might live 
twice over, and not see its end ! 

In such a time as this did the great Doctor, 
St. Gregory Nazianzen, he too an old man, a timid 
man, a retiring man, fond of solitude and books, 
and unpractised in the struggles of the world, sud- 
denly appear in the Arian city of Constantinople ; 
and, in despite of a fanatical populace, and an here- 
tical clergy, preach the truth, and prevail, to his own 
wonder, and to the glory of that grace which is 
strong in weakness, and is nearest its triumph when 
it is most despised. 

In such a time did another St. Gregory, the first 
Pope of the name, when all things were now failing, 



XII.] 



THE CATHOLIC MISSIONER. 



257 



when barbarians bad occupied the earth, and fresh 
and more savage multitudes were pouring down, 
when pestilence, famine, and heresy ravaged far and 
near, — oppressed, as he was, with continual sickness, 
his bed his Pontifical Throne, — rule, direct, and con- 
solidate the Church, in what he augured were the 
last moments of the world ; subduing Arians in 
Spain, Donatists in Africa, a third heresy in Egypt, 
a fourth in Gaul, humbling the pride of the East, 
reconciling the Goths to the Church, bringing our 
own pagan ancestors within her pale, and com- 
pleting her order, and beautifying her ritual, while 
he strengthened the foundations of her power. 

And in such a time did the six Jesuit Fathers, Ig- 
natius and his companions, while the world was exult- 
ing in the Church's fall, and men " made merry, and 
sent their gifts one to another," because the prophets 
were dead which " tormented them that dwelt upon 
earth," make their vow in the small Church of 
Montmartre ; and, attracting others to them by the 
sympathetic force of zeal, and the eloquence of 
sanctity, went forward calmly and silently into India 
in the East, and into America in the West, and, 
while they added whole nations to the Church 
abroad, restored and re-animated the Catholic popu- 
lations at home. 

It is no new thing then with the Church, in a 
time of confusion or of anxiety, when offences 
abound, and the enemy is at her gates, that her 
children, far from being dismayed, or rather glory- 

s 



258 



PROSPECTS OF 



[Disc. 



ing in the danger, as vigorous men exult in trials 
of their strength, it is no new thing for them, I say, 
to go forth to do her work, as though she were in 
the most palmy days of her prosperity. Old Rome, 
in her greatest distress, sent her legions to foreign 
destinations by one gate, while the Carthaginian 
conqueror was at the other. In truth, as has been 
said of our own countrymen, we do not know when 
we are beaten ; we advance, when by all the rules 
of war we ought to fall back ; we dream but of tri- 
umphs, and mistake (as the world judges) defeat 
for victory. For we have upon us the omens of 
success in the recollections of the past; we read 
upon our banners the names of many an old field 
of battle and of glory ; we are strong in the strength 
of our fathers, and we mean to do, in our humble 
measure, what Saints have done before us. It is 
nothing great or wonderful in us to be thus minded ; 
only Saints indeed do exploits, and carry contests 
through, but ordinary men, the serving-men and 
privates of the Church, are equal to attempting them. 
It needs no heroism in us, my brethren, to face 
such a time as this, and to make light of it ; for we 
are Catholics. We have the experience of eighteen 
hundred years. The great philosopher of antiquity 
tells us, that mere experience is courage, not indeed 
of the highest kind, but sufficient to succeed upon. 
It is not one or two or a dozen defeats, if we had 
them, which will reverse the majesty of the Ca- 
tholic Name. We are willing to take this genera- 



XII.] 



THE CATHOLIC MISSIONER. 



259 



tion on its own selected ground, and to make our 
intenseness of purpose the very voucher for our 
divinity. We are confident, zealous, and unyield- 
ing, because we are the heirs of St. Peter, St. Gre- 
gory Nazianzen, St. Gregory Pope, and all other 
holy and faithful men, who in their day, by word, 
deed, or prayer, have furthered the Catholic cause. 
We share in their merits and intercessions, and we 
speak with their voice. Hence we do that without 
heroism, which others do only with it. It would be 
heroism in others, certainly, to set about our work. 
Did Jews aim at bringing over this vast population 
to the rites of the Law, or did Unitarians address 
themselves to the Holy Roman Church, or did the 
Society of Friends attempt the great French nation, 
this would rightly be called heroism ; not a true 
religious heroism, but it would be a something 
extraordinary and startling. It would be a peculiar, 
special, original idea; it would be making a great 
venture on a great uncertainty. But there is no- 
thing of special, nothing of personal magnanimity in 
a Catholic's making light of the world, and beginning 
to preach to it, though it turn its face from him. 
He knows the nature and habits of the world ; and 
it is his immemorial way of dealing with it ; he does 
but act according to his vocation ; he would not be 
a Catholic, did he act otherwise. He knows whose 
vessel he has entered ; it is the bark of Peter. 
When the greatest of the Romans was in an open 
boat on the Adriatic, and the sea rose, he said to 

s2 



260 



PROSPECTS OF 



[Disc. 



the terrified boatman, Ccesarem vehis et fortunam 
Ccesaris, "Caesar is your freight and Caesar's for- 
tune." What he said in presumption, we, my dear 
brethren, can repeat in faith of that boat, in which 
Christ once sat and preached. We have not chosen 
it to have fear about it ; we have not entered it to 
escape out of it ; no, but to go forth in it upon the 
flood of sin and unbelief, which would sink any 
other craft. We began this our work at the first 
with Peter for our guide, on the very Feast of his 
Chair, and at the very Shrine of his relics ; so, when 
any of you marvel that we should choose this place 
and this time for our missionary labours, let him know 
that we are of those who measure the present by 
the past, and poise the world upon a distant centre. 
We act according to our name : Catholics are at home 
in every time and place, in every state of society, in 
every class of the community, in every stage of 
cultivation. No state of things comes amiss to a 
Catholic priest ; he has always work to do, and a 
harvest to reap. 

Were it otherwise, had he not confidence in the 
darkest day, and the most hostile district, he would 
be relinquishing a principal note of the Church. 
She is Catholic because she brings an universal 
remedy for an universal disease. The disease is 
sin ; all men have sinned ; all men need a recovery 
in Christ ; to all must that recovery be preached 
and dispensed. If then there be a preacher and 
dispenser sent from God, that messenger must speak, 



XII.] 



THE CATHOLIC MISSIONEIt. 



not to one, but to all, he must be suited to all, lie 
must have a mission to the whole race of Adam, 
and be cognizable by every individual of it. I do 
not mean that he must persuade all, and prevail 
with all, for that depends upon the will of each ; but 
he must show his capabilities for converting all by 
actually converting some of every time, and every 
place, and every rank, and every age of life, and 
every character of mind. If sin is a partial evil, let 
its remedy be partial ; but, if it be not local, not 
occasional, but universal, such must be the remedy. 
A local religion is not from God. It must indeed 
begin, and it may linger, in one place ; nay for cen- 
turies it may remain there, provided it is expanding 
and maturing in its internal character, and professes 
the while that it is not yet perfect. There may 
be deep reasons in God's counsels, why the proper 
revelation of His will to man should have been 
slowly elaborated and gradually completed in the 
elementary form of Judaism; but it was ever in 
progress in the Jewish period, and pointed by its 
prophets to a day when it should be spread over the 
whole earth. Judaism then was local, because it 
was imperfect; when it reached perfection within, 
it became universal without, and took the name of 
Catholic. 

Look around, my brethren, at the forms of re- 
ligion now in the world, and you will find that one 
and one only has this note of a divine origin. The 
Catholic Church has passed through the whole 



262 



PROSPECTS OF 



[Disc. 



revolution of human society ; and is now beginning 
it again. She has passed through the full cycle of 
changes, in order to show us that she is independent 
of them all. She has had trial of East and West, of 
monarchy and democracy, of peace and war, of 
imperial and feudal tyranny, of times of darkness and 
times of philosophy, of barbarousness and luxury, of 
slaves and freemen, of cities and nations, of marts of 
commerce and seats of manufacture, of old countries 
and young, of metropolis and colonies. She arose in 
the most happy age which perhaps the world has 
ever known ; for two or three hundred years she had 
to fight against the authority of law, established 
forms of religion, military power, an ably ce- 
mented empire, and prosperous contented popu- 
lations. And in the course of that period, this 
poor, feeble, despised Society was able to defeat its 
imperial oppressor, in spite of his violent efforts, 
again and again exerted, to rid himself of so de- 
spicable an assailant. In spite of calumny, in spite 
of popular outbreaks, in spite of cruel torments, the 
lords of the world were forced, as their sole chance 
of maintaining their empire, to come to terms with 
that body, of which the present Church is in name, 
in line, in doctrine, in principles, in manner of being, 
in moral characteristics, the descendant and repre- 
sentative. They were forced to humble themselves 
to her, and to enter her pale, and to exalt her, and 
to depress her enemies. She triumphed as never 
any other triumphed before or since. But this was 



XII] 



THE CATHOLIC MISSIONER. 



263 



not all ; scarcely had she secured her triumph, or 
rather set about securing it, when it was all reversed ; 
for the Roman Power, her captive, which with so 
much blood and patience she had subjugated, sud- 
denly came to nought. It broke and perished ; and 
against her rushed millions of wild savages from the 
north and east, who had neither God nor conscience, 
nor even natural compassion. She had to begin 
again; for centuries they came down, one horde 
after another, like roaring waves, and clashed against 
her base. They came again and again, like the 
armed bands sent by the king of Israel against the 
Prophet ; and, as he brought fire down from heaven 
which devoured them as they came, so in her more 
gracious way did Holy Church, burning with zeal 
and love, devour her enemies, multitude after multi- 
tude, with the flame which her Lord had kindled, 
" heaping coals of fire upon their heads," and " over- 
coming evil with good." Thus out of those fierce 
strangers were made her truest and most loyal 
children ; and then from among them there arose a 
strong military power, more artificially constructed 
than the old Roman, with traditions and precedents 
which lasted on for centuries beyond itself, at first 
the Church's champion and then her rival ; and here 
too she had to undergo conflict, and to gain her 
triumph. And so I might proceed, going to and fro, 
and telling of her political successes since, and her 
intellectual victories from the beginning, and her 
social improvements, and her encounters with those 



264 



PROSPECTS OF 



[Disc. 



other circumstances of human nature or combina- 
tions of human kind, which I just now enumerated ; 
all which prove to us, with a cogency as great as 
that of physical demonstration, that she comes not 
of earth, that she holds not of earth, that she is no 
servant of man, else he who made could have 
destroyed her. 

How different again, I say, how different are all 
religions that ever were from this lofty and un- 
changeable Catholic Church ! They depend on time 
and place for their existence, they live in periods or 
in regions. They are children of the soil, indigenous 
plants, which readily flourish under a certain tem- 
perature, in a certain aspect, in moist or in dry, and 
die if they are transplanted. Their haunt is one 
article of their scientific description. Thus the 
Greek schism, Nestorianism, the heresy of Calvin, 
and Methodism, each has its geographical limits. 
Protestantism has gained nothing in Europe since its 
first outbreak. Some accident gives rise to these 
religious manifestations ; some sickly season, the 
burning sun, the vapour-laden marsh, breeds a pesti- 
lence, and there it remains hanging in the air over 
its birth-place perhaps for centuries ; then some 
change takes place in the earth or in the heavens, 
and it suddenly is no more. Sometimes, however, 
it is true, such scourges of God have a course upon 
earth, and affect a Catholic range. They issue as 
from some poisonous lake or pit in Ethiopia or in 
India, and march forth with resistless power to fulfil 



XIL] THE CATHOLIC MISSIONER. 



265 



their mission of evil, and walk to and fro over the 
face of the world. Such was the Arabian imposture, 
of which Mahomet was the framer ; and you will ask, 
perhaps, whether it has not done that, which I have 
said the Catholic Church alone can do, and proved 
thereby that it had in it an internal principle, which, 
depending not on man, could subdue him in any 
time and place ? No, my brethren, look narrowly, 
and you will see the marked distinction between 
the religion of Mahomet and the Church of Christ. 
In truth Mahometanism has done little more than 
the Anglican communion is doing at present. That 
communion is found in many parts of the world ; its 
primate has a jurisdiction even greater than the 
Nestorian Patriarch of old ; it has establishments in 
Malta, in Jerusalem, in India, in China, in Australia, 
in South Africa, and in Canada. Here at least you 
will say is Catholicity, even greater than that of Ma- 
homet. O, my brethren, be not beguiled by words : 
will any thinking man say for a moment, whatever 
this objection be worth, that the Established Religion 
is superior to time and place ? well, if not, why set 
about proving that it is? rather, does not its essence 
lie in its recognition by the State ? is not its esta- 
blishment its very form ? what would it be, would 
it last ten years, if abandoned to itself? It is its 
establishment which erects it into a unity and 
individuality; can you contemplate it, though you 
stimulate your imagination to the task, abstracted 
from its churches, palaces, colleges, parsonages, 



266 



PROSPECTS OF 



[Disc. 



revenues, civil precedence, and national position ? 
Strip it of tins world, and it has been a mortal 
operation, for it has ceased to be. Take its bishops 
out of the legislature, tear its formularies from the 
Statute Book, open its universities to Dissenters, 
recognize the secularization of its clergy, legalize 
its prayer-meetings, and what would be its defini- 
tion ? You know that, did not the State compel 
it to be one, it would split at once into three 
several bodies, each bearing within them the ele- 
ments of further divisions. Even the small party 
of Non-jurors, a century and a half since, when 
released from the civil power, split into two. It 
has then no internal consistency, or individuality, 
or soul, to give it the capacity of propagation. 
Methodism represents some sort of an idea, Congre- 
gationalism an idea ; the Established Religion has 
in it no idea beyond establishment. Its extension 
has been, for the most part, passive not active ; it is 
carried forward into other places by State policy, 
and it moves because the State moves ; it is an 
appendage, whether weapon or decoration, of the 
sovereign power ; it is the religion, not even of a 
race, but of the ruling portion of a race. The Anglo- 
Saxon has done in this day what the Saracen did in 
a former. He does grudgingly for expedience, what 
the other did heartily from fanaticism. This is the 
chief difference between the two ; the Saracen, in 
his commencement, converted the heretical East 
with the sword ; but at least in India the extension 



XII.] 



THE CATHOLIC MISSIONED. 



267 



of his faith has been by immigration, as the Anglo- 
Saxon's now ; he grew into other nations by com- 
merce and colonization ; but, when he encountered 
the Catholic of the West, he made as little impression 
upon Spain, as the Anglo-Saxon makes on Ireland. 

There is but one religion, my brethren, possessed 
of that real internal unity which is the primary condi- 
tion of independence. Whether you look to Russia, 
England, or Germany, this note of divinity is wanting. 
In this country, especially, there is nothing broader 
than class religions; the established form itself is 
but the religion of a class. There is one persuasion 
for the rich, and another for the poor ; men are born 
in sects, they make money, and rise in the world, 
and then they profess to belong to the Establish- 
ment ; the enthusiastic go here, and the sober and 
rational go there. This body lives in the world's 
smile, that in its frown ; the one would perish of 
cold in the world's winter, and the other would melt 
away in the summer. Not one of them undertakes 
human nature : none compasses the whole man ; 
none places all men on a level ; none addresses the 
intellect and the heart, fear and love, the active and 
the contemplative. It is considered, and justly, as 
an evidence for Christianity, that the ablest men 
have been Christians ; not that all sagacious or pro- 
found minds have taken up its profession, but that 
it has gained victories among them, such and so 
many, as to show that it is not ability or learning 
which is the reason why all are not converted. Such 



268 



PROSPECTS OF 



[Disc. 



is the characteristic of Catholicity ; not the highest 
in rank, not the meanest, not the most refined, not 
the rudest, but the Church includes them among 
her children ; she is the solace of the forlorn, the 
chastener of the prosperous, and the guide of the 
wayward. She keeps a mother's eye for the inno- 
cent, bears with a heavy hand upon the wanton, and 
has a voice of majesty for the proud. She opens the 
mind of the ignorant, and she prostrates the intellect 
of the most gifted. These are not words; she has 
done it, she does it still, she undertakes to do it. 
All she asks is an open field, and freedom to act. 
She asks no patronage from the civil power: in 
former times and places she has asked it; and, as 
Protestantism also, has availed herself of the civil 
sword. It is true she did so, because in certain 
times it has been the acknowledged mode of acting, 
the most expeditious, and open to no just exception, 
but her history shows that she needed it not, for she 
has extended and flourished without it. She is 
ready for any service which occurs; she will take 
the world as it comes ; nothing but force can repress 
her. See, my brethren, what she is doing in this 
country now ; for three centuries the civil power has 
trodden down the goodly plant of grace, and kept its 
foot upon it ; at length circumstances have removed 
that tyranny, and lo, the fair form of the Ancient 
Church rises up at once, as fresh and as vigorous as 
if she had never intermitted her growth. She is 
the same as she was three centuries ago, ere the 



XII.] 



THE CATHOLIC MISSIONER 



269 



present religions of the country existed ; you know 
her to be the same ; it is the charge brought against 
her that she does not change ; time and place affect 
her not, because she has her source where there is 
neither time nor place, because she comes from the 
throne of the Illimitable, Eternal God. 

With these feelings, my brethren, can we fear 
that we shall not have work enough in a vast city 
like this which has such need of us ? He on whom 
we repose is " yesterday, and to-day, and the same 
for ever." If He did His wonders in the days of old, 
He does His wonders now ; if in former days the 
feeble and unworthy were made His instruments of 
good, so are they now. While we trust in Him, 
while we are true to His Church, we know that He 
intends to use us ; how, we know not ; who are to 
be the objects of His mercy, we know not ; we 
know not to whom we are sent ; but we know that 
tens of thousands cry out for us, and that of a surety 
we shall be sent to His chosen. " The word which 
shall issue from His mouth shall not return unto 
Him void, but shall do His pleasure, and shall pros- 
per in the things whereto He hath sent it." None 
so innocent, none so sinful, none so dull, none so 
intellectual, but need the grace of the Catholic 
Church. If we do not prevail with the educated, 
we shall prevail with the rude ; if we fail with 
the old, we shall gain the young; if we persuade 
not the serious and respectable, we shall succeed 
with the thoughtless ; if we come short of those 



270 



PROSPECTS OF 



[Disc. 



who are near the Church, we shall reach even to 
those who are far distant from it. God's arm is not 
shortened ; He has not sent us here for nothing ; 
unless, (which He Himself forbid !) we come to 
nothing by our own disobedience. 

True, there is one class of persons to whom we 
might seem to be sent more than to others, to whom 
we could naturally address ourselves, and on whose 
attention we have a sort of claim. There are those, 
who, like ourselves, were in times past gradually 
led on, step by step, till with us they stood on the 
threshold of the Church. They felt with us that 
the Catholic Religion was different from any thing 
else in the world ; and though it is difficult to say 
what more they felt in common, (for no two persons 
exactly felt alike,) yet they felt they had something 
to learn, their course was not clear to them, and 
they wished to find out God's will. Now, what 
might have been expected of such persons, what was 
natural in them, when they heard that their own 
friends, with whom they had sympathized so fully, 
had gone forward, under a sense of duty, to join the 
Catholic Church ? Surely it was natural, — I will not 
say, that they should at once follow them, (for they 
had authority also on the side of remaining,) but at 
least, that they should weigh the matter well, and 
listen with interest to what their friends might have 
to tell them. Did they do this in fact ? nay, they 
did otherwise ; they said, " Since our common doc- 
trines and principles have led you forward, for that 



XII.I 



THE CATHOLIC MISSIONER. 



271 



very reason we will go backward ; the more we have 
hitherto agreed with you, the less can we now be in- 
fluenced by you. Since you have gone, we make up 
our minds once for all to remain. Your arguments 
are a temptation, because we cannot answer them. 
We will turn away our eyes, we will close our ears, 
lest we should see and hear too much. You were 
so singleminded when you were with us, that party 
spirit is now your motive ; so honest in your leaving 
us, that notoriety is now your aim. We cannot 
inflict a keener mortification on you than by taking 
no notice of you when you speak ; we cannot have a 
better triumph over you, than by keeping others 
from you when they would address you. You have 
spoiled a fair cause, and you deserve of us no 
mercy!" Alas, alas! let them go and say all this 
at the judgment-seat of Christ ! Take it at the best 
advantage, my brethren, and what is the argument 
based upon but this, — that all inquiry must be wrong, 
which leads to a change of religion ? The process is 
condemned by its issue; it is a mere absurdity to 
give up the religion of our birth, the home of our 
affections, the seat of our influence, the wellspring of 
our maintenance. It was an absurdity in St. Paul 
to become a Christian ; it was an absurdity in him 
to weep over his brethren who would not listen to 
him. I see now, I never could understand before, 
why it was that the Jews hugged themselves in 
their Judaism, and were proof against persuasion. 
In vain the Apostles insisted, " Your religion leads 



2 7: 2 



PROSPECTS OF 



[Disc 



to ours, and ours is a fact before your eyes ; why 
wait and long for what is present, as if it were to 
come ? do you consider your Church perfect ? do 
you think its teachers infallible ? do you profess to 
have attained ? why not turn at least your thoughts 
towards Christianity ?" " No," said they, " we will 
live, we will die, where we were born ; the religion 
of our ancestors, the religion of our nation, is the 
only truth ; it must be safe not to move. We will 
not unchurch ourselves, we will not descend from 
our pretensions ; we will shut our hearts to con- 
viction, and will stake eternity on our position." O 
great argument, not for Jews only, but for Maho- 
metans, for Hindoos ! great argument for heathen of 
all lands, for all who prefer this world to another, 
who prefer a temporary peace to truth, present ease 
to forgiveness of sins, the smile of friends to the 
favour of Christ ! but weak argument, miserable 
sophistry, when a man may know better, in the clear 
ray of .heaven, and in the eye of Him who comes to 
judge the world with fire ! 

O, my dear brethren, if any be here present to 
whom these remarks may more or less apply, do us 
not the injustice to think that we aim at your con- 
version except for your own sake alone. What 
good would you be to us ? a charge and a responsi- 
bility. From my heart I say it, you relieve us from 
care and anxiety by remaining where you are ; were 
I actuated by any selfish policy, I should be well 
content to leave you in your error. But I cannot 



XII.] 



THE CATHOLIC MISSIONER. 



273 



bear to think that pious, religious hearts, on which 
the grace of God has been so singularly shed, who 
so befit conversion, who are intended for heaven, 
should be relapsing into mortal sin, and losing a 
prize which once was within their reach. I will not 
believe that you will always disappoint the yearn- 
ing hopes of those who love you so much in the 
recollections of the past. Dies venit, dies Tua, the 
day shall come, though it may tarry, and we will in 
patience wait for it. Still the truth must be spoken, 
and the rule of God's dealings magnified ; — we do 
not need you, but you need us ; it is not we who 
shall be baffled if we cannot gain you, but you who 
will come short, if you be not gained. Remain, 
then, in the barrenness of your feelings, and the 
decay of your love, and the perplexity of your 
reason, if you will not be converted. Alas, there is 
work enough to do, less troublesome, less anxious, 
than the care of your souls. There are thousands of 
sinners to be reconciled, of the young to be watched 
over, of the devout to be consoled. God needs not 
worshippers ; He needs not objects for His mercy ; 
He can do without you ; He can of the very stones 
raise children to Abraham ; He offers His benefits 
and passes on ; He delays not ; He offers once, not 
twice and thrice ; He goes on to others ; He turns 
to the Gentiles ; He turns to open sinners ; He 
refuses the well-conducted for the outcast ; " He 
hath filled the hungry with good things, and the rich 
He hath sent empty away." 

T 



274 PROSPECTS OF THE CATHOLIC MISSIONER. 

For me, my brethren, it is not likely that you will 
hear me again ; these may be my first and last 
words to you, for this is not my home. Si justijicare 
me voluero, os meum condemnabit me, " If I wish to 
justify myself, my mouth shall condemn me ; if I 
shall show forth my innocence, it shall prove me 
perverse ;" yet, though full of imperfections, full of 
miseries, I trust that I may say in my measure after 
the Apostle, " I have lived in all good conscience 
before God unto this day. Our glory is this, the 
testimony of our conscience, that in simplicity of 
heart and sincerity of God, and not in carnal wisdom, 
but in the grace of God, we have lived in this 
world, and more abundantly towards you." I have 
followed His guidance, and He has not disappointed 
me ; I have put myself into His hands, and He has 
given me what I sought ; and as He has been with 
me hitherto, so may He, and His blessed Mother, 
and all good Angels and Saints, be with me unto 
the end. 



DISCOURSE XIII 



MYSTERIES OF NATURE AND OF GRACE. 



I am going to assert, what some persons, my brethren, 
those especially whom it most concerns, will not 
hesitate to call a great paradox ; but which never- 
theless I consider to be most true, and likely to 
approve itself to you more and more, the oftener you 
turn your thoughts to the subject, and likely to be 
confirmed in the religious history of this country, as 
time proceeds. It is this : — that it is quite as diffi- 
cult, and quite as easy, to believe that there is a God 
in heaven, as to believe that the Catholic Church is 
His oracle and minister on earth. I do not mean 
to say, that it is really difficult to believe in God, 
(God Himself forbid !) no ; but that belief in God 
and belief in His Church stand on the same kind of 
foundation ; that the proof of the one truth is like 
the proof of the other truth; and that the objections 
which may be made to the one are like the objec- 

t 2 



276 



MYSTERIES OF NATURE 



[Disc. 



tions which may be made to the other ; and that, as 
right reason and sound judgment overrule objec- 
tions to the being of a God, so do they supersede 
and set aside objections to the divine mission of the 
Church. And I consider that, when once a man 
has a real hold of the great doctrine that there is a 
God, in its true meaning and bearings, then, (pro- 
vided there be no disturbing cause, no peculiarities 
in his circumstances, involuntary ignorance, or the 
like,) he will be led on without an effort, as by a 
natural continuation of that belief, to believe also in 
the Catholic Church as God's messenger or Prophet ; 
and he will dismiss as worthless the objections 
which are adducible against the latter truth as he 
dismisses objections adducible against the former. 
And I consider, on the other hand, that, when a 
man does not believe in the Church, then, (the same 
accidental impediments being put aside, as before,) 
there is nothing in reason to keep him from 
doubting the being of a God. 

The state of the case is this ; — every one spon- 
taneously embraces the doctrine of the existence of 
God, as a first principle, and a necessary assumption. 
It is not so much proved to him, as borne in upon 
his mind irresistibly, as a truth which it does not 
occur to him, nor is possible for him, to doubt ; so 
various and so abundant is the witness for it con- 
tained in the experience and the conscience of every 
one. He cannot unravel the process, or put his 
finger on the independent arguments, which conspire 



XIII.] 



AND OF GRACE. 



277 



together to create in him the certainty which he 
feels ; but certain of it he is, and he has neither the 
temptation nor the wish to doubt it, and he could, 
should need arise, at least point to the books or the 
persons who had in custody the various formal proofs 
on which the being of a God rested, and the irre- 
fragable demonstration thence resulting against the 
freethinker and the sceptic. At the same time he 
certainly would find, if he was in a condition to pur- 
sue the subject himself, that unbelievers had the 
advantage of him so far as this, — that there were a 
number of objections to the doctrine which he could 
not answer, questions which he could not solve, 
mysteries which he could neither conceive nor 
explain ; he would perceive that the proof might 
be more perfect and complete than it is ; he would 
not find indeed any thing to invalidate that proof, 
but many things which might embarrass him in dis- 
cussion, or afford a plausible, though not a real, 
excuse for doubting about it. 

The case is pretty much the same as regards the 
great moral law of God. We take it for granted, 
and rightly ; what could we do, where should we be, 
without it ? how could we conduct ourselves, if there 
were no difference between right and wrong, and if 
one action were as acceptable to our Creator as 
another ? Impossible ! if any thing is true and 
divine, the rule of conscience is such, and it is 
frightful to suppose the contrary. Still, in spite of 
this, there is quite room for objectors to insinuate 



278 



MYSTERIES OF NATURE 



[Disc. 



doubts about its authority or its enunciations; and 
where an inquirer is cold and fastidious, or careless, 
or wishes an excuse for disobedience, it is easy for 
him to perplex and disorder his reason, till he 
begins to question whether what he has all his life 
thought to be sins, are really such, and whether 
conscientiousness is not in fact a superstition. 

And in like manner as regards the Catholic 
Church; she bears upon her the tokens of divinity, 
which come home to any mind at once, which has 
not been possessed by prejudice, and educated in 
suspicion. It is not so much a process of inquiry as 
an instantaneous recognition, on which it believes, 
Moreover it is possible to analyze the arguments, 
and draw up in form the great proof, on which her 
claims rest ; but, on the other hand, it is quite 
possible also for opponents to bring forward certain 
imposing objections, which, though they do not 
really interfere with it, still are specious in them- 
selves, and are sufficient to arrest and entangle the 
mind, and to keep it back from a fair examination of 
it, and of the vast array of arguments of which it con- 
sists. I am alluding to such objections as the follow- 
ing : — How can Almighty God be Three and yet One ; 
how can Christ be God and yet man ; how can He 
be at once in the Blessed Sacrament under the form 
of Bread and Wine, and yet in heaven; how can 
the doctrine of eternal punishment be true ; — or 
again, how is it that, if the Catholic Church is from 
God, the gift of belonging to her is not, and has not 



XIIL] 



AND OF GRACE. 



279 



been, granted to all men ; how is it that so many 
apparently good men are external to her; why 
should she pay such honour to the Blessed Virgin 
and all Saints ; how is it that, since the Bible also is 
from God, it admits of being quoted in opposition 
to her teaching; — in a word, how is it, if she is 
from God, that every thing which she does, and says, 
and is, is not perfectly intelligible to man ; intelli- 
gible, not only to man in general, but to the reason, 
and judgment, and taste of every individual of the 
species, taken one by one ? 

Now, whatever my anxiety may be about the 
future, I trust I need at present have none in in- 
sisting, before a congregation however mixed, on the 
mysteries or difficulties which attach to the doctrine 
of God's existence, and which must be acquiesced in 
by every one who believes it. I trust, and am sure, 
that as yet it is safe even to put before a Protestant 
some of the stupendous wonders which he is obliged 
to accept, whether he will or no, when he confesses 
that there is a God. I am going to do so, not wan- 
tonly, but with a definite object, by way of showing 
him, that he is not called on to believe any thing in 
the Catholic Church more strange or inexplicable 
than he already admits when he believes in a God ; 
so that, if God exists in spite of the difficulties 
attending the doctrine, so the Church may be of 
divine origin, though that doctrine too has its diffi- 
culties ; — nay, I might even say, the Church is divine, 
because of those difficulties ; for, if there be myste- 



280 MYSTERIES OF NATURE [Disc. 

riousness in her teaching, this does but show that 
she proceeds from Him, who is Himself Mystery, in 
the most simple and elementary ideas which we 
have of Him, whom we cannot contemplate at all 
except as One who is absolutely greater than our 
reason, and utterly strange to our imagination. 

First then, consider that Almighty God had no 
beginning, and that this is necessary from the nature 
of the case, and inevitable. For if (to suppose what 
is absurd) the maker of the visible world was him- 
self made by some other maker, and that maker 
again by another, you must any how come at last to 
a first Maker who had no maker, that is, who had 
no beginning. Else you will be forced to say that 
the world was not made at all, or made itself, and 
itself had no beginning, which is more wonderful 
still ; for it is much easier to conceive that a Spirit, 
such as God is, existed from eternity, than that this 
material world was eternal. Unless then we are 
resolved to doubt that we live in a world of beings 
at all, unless we doubt our own existence, if we do 
but grant that there is something or other now ex- 
isting, it follows at once, that there must be some- 
thing which has always existed, and never had a 
beginning. This then is certain from the necessity of 
the case ; but can there be a more overwhelming mys- 
tery than it is \ To say that a being had no begin- 
ning seems a contradiction in terms ; it is a mystery 
as great, or rather greater, than any in the Catholic 
Faith. For instance, it is the teaching of the 



XIII.] 



AND OF GRACE. 



281 



Church that the Father is God, the Son God, and 
the Holy Ghost God, yet that there is but One 
God ; this is simply incomprehensible to us, but at 
least so far as this, it involves no self-contradiction, 
because God is not Three and One in the same 
sense, but He is Three in one sense and One in 
another ; on the contrary, to say that any being has 
no beginning, is like a statement which means no- 
thing, and is an absurdity. And so again, Protes- 
tants think that the Catholic doctrine of the Real 
Presence cannot be true, because, if so, our Lord's 
Body is in two places at once, in Heaven and upon 
the Altar, and this they think an impossibility. Now, 
Catholics do not see that it is impossible at all ; they 
do not indeed see how it can be, but they do not see 
why it should not be ; there are many things which 
exist, though we do not know how ; — do we know 
how any thing exists ? — there are many truths which 
are not less truths because we cannot picture them 
to ourselves or conceive them ; but at any rate, the 
Catholic doctrine concerning the Real Presence is 
not more mysterious than how Almighty God can 
exist, yet never have come into existence. We do 
not know what is meant by saying that Almighty 
God will have no end, but still there is nothing here 
to distress or confuse our reason, but it distorts our 
mental sight and makes our head giddy to have to 
say, (what nevertheless we cannot help saying,) that 
He had no beginning. Reason brings it home 
clearly to us, yet reason again starts at it ; reason 



282 



MYSTERIES OF NATURE 



[Disc. 



starts back from its own discovery, yet is obliged to 
embrace it. It discovers, it shrinks, it submits ; 
such is the state of the case, but, I say, they who are 
obliged to bow their neck to this mystery, need not 
be so sensitive about the mysteries of the Catholic 
Church. 

Then think of this again, which, though not so 
baffling to the reason, still is most bewildering to 
the imagination; — that, if the Almighty had no 
beginning He must have lived a whole eternity 
by Himself. What an awful thought ! for us, our 
happiness lies in looking up to some object or pur- 
suing some end ; we, poor mortal men, cannot un- 
derstand a prolonged rest, except as a sort of sloth 
and self-forgetfulness ; we are wearied if we medi- 
tate for one short hour ; what then is meant when 
it is said, that He, the Great God, passed infinite 
years by Himself ? What was the end of His being ? 
He was His own end ; how incomprehensible ! And 
since He Kved a whole eternity by Himself, He 
might, had He so willed, never have created any 
thing ; and then from eternity to eternity there 
would have been none but He, none to witness 
Him, none to contemplate Him, none to adore and 
praise Him. How oppressive to think of! that 
there should have been no space, no time, no suc- 
cession, no variation, no progression, no scope, on 
termination ; One Infinite Being from first to last, 
and nothing else ! And why He ? O, my brethren, 
here is mystery without mitigation, without relief! 



XIII.] 



AND OF GRACE. 



283 



The mysteries of revelation, the Catholic dogmas, 
inconceivable as they are, are most gracious, most 
loving, laden with mercy and consolation to us, not 
only sublime, but touching and winning ; — such is 
the doctrine that God became man. Incomprehen- 
sible it is, and we can but adore, when we hear 
that the Almighty Being, of whom I have been 
speaking, " who inhabiteth eternity," has taken flesh 
and blood of a Virgin's veins, lain in a Virgin's 
womb, been suckled at a Virgin's breast, been obe- 
dient to human parents, worked at a humble trade, 
been despised by His own, been buffeted and 
scourged by His creatures, been nailed hand and 
foot to a Cross, and died a malefactor's death ; and 
that now, under the form of Bread, He should lie 
upon our Altars, and suffer Himself to be hidden 
in a small tabernacle ! Most incomprehensible, but 
still, while the thought overwhelms our imagination, 
it also overpowers our heart ; it is the most sub- 
duing, affecting, piercing thought which can be pic- 
tured to us. It thrills through us, and draws our 
tears, and abases us, and melts us into love and 
affection, when we dwell upon it. O most tender 
and compassionate Lord ! You see, He puts out 
of our sight that mysteriousness of His which is 
only awful and terrible ; He insists not on His past 
eternity ; He would not scare and trouble His poor 
children, when at length He speaks to them ; no, 
He does but surround Himself with His own in- 
finite bountifulness and compassion; He bids His 



284 



MYSTERIES OF NATURE 



[Disc. 



Church tell us only of His mysterious condescen- 
sion. Still our reason, prying, curious reason, 
searches out for us those prior and more austere 
mysteries, which are attached to His being, and 
He suffers it to find them out; He suffers it, for 
He knows that that same reason, though it recoils 
from them, must put up with them ; He knows, 
that they will be felt by it to be clear, inevitable 
truths, appalling as they are. He suffers it to dis- 
cover them, in order that, both by the parallel and 
by the contrast between what reason infers and 
what the Church reveals, we may be drawn on 
from the awful discoveries of the one to the gra- 
cious announcements of the other; and in order 
too, that the rejection of revelation may be its own 
punishment, and that they who stumble at the 
Catholic mysteries may be dashed back upon the 
adamantine rocks which base the Throne of the 
Everlasting, and may wrestle with the stern con- 
clusions of reason, since they refuse the bright con- 
solations of faith. 

And now another difficulty, which reason dis- 
covers, yet cannot explain. Since the world exists, 
and did not ever exist, there was a time when the 
Almighty changed the state of things, which had 
been from all eternity, for another. It was wonder- 
ful that He should be by Himself for an eternity ; 
moreover it had been wonderful, had He never 
changed it ; but it is wonderful too, that He did 
change it. It is wonderful that, being for an 



XIII.] 



AND OF GRACE. 



285 



eternity alone, He should pass from that solitary 
state, and surround Himself with millions upon 
millions of living beings. A state which had been 
from eternity might well be considered unchange- 
able ; yet it ceased, and another superseded it. 
What end could the All-blessed have in beginning 
to create, and in determining to pass a second 
eternity so differently from the first ? This mystery, 
my brethren, will somewhat resign us, I think, to 
the difficulty of a question sometimes put to us by 
unbelievers, viz., if the Catholic Religion is from 
God, w r hy was it set up so late in the world's day? 
why did some thousands of years pass before Christ 
came, and His gifts were poured upon the race of 
man ? But surely, it is not so strange that the 
Judge of men should have changed His dealings 
towards them " in the midst of the years," as that 
He should have changed the history of the heavens 
in the midst of eternity. If creation had a begin- 
ning at a certain date, why should not redemption ? 
and if w r e be forced to believe, whether w^e will or 
no, that there was once an innovation upon the 
course of things on high, and that the universe arose 
out of nothing, and if, even when the earth w r as 
created, still it remained "empty and void, and 
darkness was upon the face of the deep," what so 
great marvel is it, that there was a fixed period in 
God's inscrutable counsels, during which there was 
"a bond fastened upon all people," and "a web 
drawn over them," and then a date, at which the 



286 



MYSTERIES OF NATURE 



[Disc. 



bond of thraldom was broken, and the web of error 
was unravelled % 

Well, let us suppose the innovation decreed in 
the eternal purpose of the Most High, and that 
creation is to be; of whom, my brethren, shall it 
consist? doubtless of beings who can praise and 
bless Him, who can admire His perfections, and 
obey His will, who will be least unworthy to mi- 
nister about His Throne and to keep Him company. 
Look around, and say how far facts bear out this 
anticipation. There is but one race of intelligent 
beings which the natural sight knows any thing of, 
and a thousand races which cannot love or worship 
Him who made them. Millions upon millions 
enjoy their brief span of life, but man alone can 
look up to heaven ; and what is man, many though 
he be, what is he in the presence of so innumerable 
a multitude ? Consider the profusion of beasts that 
range the earth, of birds under the firmament of 
heaven, of fish in the depths of the ocean, and above 
all the multiplied varieties of insects, which baffle 
our sight by their very minuteness, and our powers 
of conception by their abundance. Doubtless they 
all show forth the glory of the Creator, as do the 
elements, "fire, hail, snow, and ice, stormy winds, 
which fulfil His word." Yet not one of them has a 
soul, not one of them knows who made it or that it 
is made, not one can render Him any proper service, 
not one can love Him. Indeed how far does the 
whole world come short of what it might be ! it is 



XIII.] 



AND OF GRACE. 



287 



not even possessed of created excellence in fulness. 
It is stamped with imperfection ; every thing indeed 
is good in its kind, for God could create nothing 
otherwise, but how much more fully might He have 
poured His glory and infused His grace into it, 
how much more beautiful and divine a world might 
He have made than that which, after an eternal 
silence, He summoned into being ! Let reason 
answer, I repeat, why is it that He did not surround 
Himself with spiritual intelligences, and animate 
every material atom with a soul ? Why made He 
not the very footstool of His Throne and the pave- 
ment of His Temple of an angelic nature, beings 
who could praise and bless Him, while they did 
Him menial service ? Set man's wit and man's 
imagination to the work of devising a world, and 
you would see, my brethren, what a far more splen- 
did design he would submit for it, than met the 
good pleasure of the Omnipotent and the All-wise. 
Ambitious architect would he have been, if called to 
build the palace of the Lord of all, in which every 
single part would have been the best conceivable, 
the colours all the brightest, the materials the most 
costly, and the lineaments the most perfect. Pass 
from man's private fancies and ideas and fastidious 
criticisms on the vast subject ; come to facts which 
are before our eyes, and report what meets them. 
We see an universe, material for the most part and 
corruptible, fashioned indeed by laws of infinite 
skill, and betokening an All-wise Hand, but lifeless 



288 



MYSTERIES OF NATURE 



[Disc. 



and senseless ; huge globes, hurled into space, and 
moving mechanically ; subtle influences, penetrating 
into the most hidden corners and pores of the world, 
as quick and keen as thought, yet as helpless as the 
clay from which thought has departed. And next, 
life without sense ; myriads of trees and plants, 
" the grass of the field," beautiful to the eye, but 
perishable and worthless in the sight of heaven. 
And then, when at length we discover sense as well 
as life, what, I repeat, do we see but a greater 
mystery still? We behold the spectacle of brute 
nature ; of impulses, feelings, propensities, passions, 
which in us are ruled or repressed by a super- 
intending reason, and from which, when ungovern- 
able, we shrink, as fearful and hateful, because in us 
they would be sin. Millions of irrational creatures 
surround us, and it would seem as though the 
Creator had left part of His work in its original 
chaos, so monstrous are these beings, which move 
and feel and act without reflection and without 
principle. To matter He has given laws ; He has 
divided the moist and the dry, the heavy and the 
rare, the light and dark ; He has " placed the sand 
as a boundary for the sea, a perpetual precept which 
it shall not pass." He has tamed the elements, and 
made them servants of the universal good ; but the 
brute beasts pass to and fro in their wildness and 
their isolation, no yoke on their neck or " bit in their 
lips," the enemies of all they meet, yet without the 
capacity of self-love. They live on each other's flesh 



XIII.] 



AND OF GRACE. 



289 



by an original necessity of their being; their eyes, 
their teeth, their claws, their muscles, their voice, 
their walk, their structure within, all speak of 
violence and blood. They seem made to inflict 
pain, they rush on their prey with animosity, and 
devour it with greediness. There is scarce a passion 
or a feeling which is sin in man, but is found 
brute and irresponsible in them. Rage, wanton 
cruelty, hatred, sullenness, jealousy, revenge, cunning, 
malice, envy, desire, vain-glory, gluttony, each has 
its representative; and say, O philosopher of this 
world, who wouldest fain walk by reason only, and 
scornest the Catholic faith, is it not marvellous, or 
explain it, if thou canst, that the All-wise and All- 
good should have poured over the face of His good 
creation these rude and inchoate existencies, to look 
like sinners, though they be not ; and they, created 
before man, perhaps for an untold period, and 
dividing the earth with him since, and the actual 
lords of a great portion of it even now ? 

The crowning work of God is man ; he is the 
flower and perfection of creation, and made to serve 
and worship his Creator ; look at him then, O sages, 
who scoff at the revealed word, scrutinize him, and 
say in sincerity, is he a fit offering to present to the 
Great God ? I must not speak of sin ; you will not 
acknowledge the term, or will explain it away ; yet 
consider man as he is found in the world, and own- 
ing, as you must own, that the many do not act by 
rule or principle, and that few are any honour to 

u 



290 



MYSTERIES OF NATURE 



[Disc. 



their Maker, acknowledging that enmities, frauds, 
cruelties, oppressions, injuries, and excesses are 
almost the constituents of human life, knowing the 
wonderful capabilities of man, yet their necessary 
frustration in so brief an existence, can you venture 
to say that the Church's yoke is heavy, when you 
yourselves, viewing the Universe from end to end, 
are compelled, by the force of reason, to submit your 
reason to the confession that God has created 
nothing perfect, a world of order which is dead and 
corruptible, a world of immortal spirits which is in 
rebellion ? 

I come then to this conclusion ; — if I must sub- 
mit my reason to mysteries, it is not much matter 
whether it is a mystery more or a mystery less ; the 
main difficulty is to believe at all ; the main diffi- 
culty to an inquirer is firmly to hold that there is a 
Living God, in spite of the darkness which surrounds 
Him, the Creator, Witness, and Judge of men. 
When once the mind is broken in, as it must be, to 
a Power above it, when once it understands, that it 
is not itself the measure of all things in heaven and 
earth, it will have little difficulty in going forward. 
I do not say it will, or can, go on to other truths, 
without conviction ; I do not say it ought to believe 
the Catholic faith without grounds and motives ; 
but I say that, when once it believes in God, the 
great obstacle to faith has been taken away, a 
proud, self-sufficient spirit. When once a man 
really, with the eyes of his soul and by the power of 



XIII.] 



AND OF GRACE. 



291 



divine grace, recognizes his Creator, he has passed a 
line ; that has happened to him which cannot hap- 
pen twice ; he has bent his stiff neck, and triumphed 
over himself. If he believes that God has no 
beginning, why not believe that He is Three yet 
One? if he owns that God created space, why not own 
also that He can cause a body to be in many places 
at once ? if he is obliged to grant that He created 
all things out of nothing, why doubt His power to 
change the substance of bread into the body of His 
Son ? It is as strange that, after an eternal rest, He 
should begin to create, as that, when He once 
created, He should take on Himself a created 
nature ; it is as strange that man should be allowed 
to fall so low, as we see before our eyes, as that 
Angels and Saints should be exalted even to reli- 
gious honours ; it is as strange that such large 
families in the animal world should be created with- 
out souls, as that the Blessed Mother of God should 
be set over creation; as strange, that the book of 
nature should read differently from the rule of con- 
science or the conclusions of reason, as that the 
Scriptures of the Church should admit of being 
interpreted in opposition to her tradition. And if 
it shocks a religious mind to doubt of the being of 
the All-wise and All-good God, in spite of the mys- 
teries in nature, why may it not shrink also from 
using the revealed mysteries as an argument against 
revelation ? 

And now, my dear brethren, who are as yet 
u 2 



292 



MYSTERIES OF NATURE 



[Disc. 



external to the Church, if I have brought you as 
far as this, I really do not see why I have not 
brought you on to make your submission to her. 
Can you deliberately sit down amid the bewildering 
mysteries of creation, when a refuge is held out to 
you, in which reason is rewarded for its faith by 
the fulfilment of its hopes ? Nature does not exempt 
you from the trial of believing, but it gives you 
nothing in return; it does but disappoint you. 
You must submit your reason any how ; you are 
not in better circumstances if you turn from the 
Church ; you merely do not secure what you have 
already sought in nature in vain. The simple ques- 
tion to be decided is one of fact, has a revelation 
been given ? You lessen, not increase your difficul- 
ties by receiving it. It comes to you recommended 
and urged upon you by the most favourable antici- 
pations of reason. The very difficulties of nature 
make it likely that a revelation should be made ; 
the very mysteries of creation call for some act on 
the part of the Creator, by which those mysteries 
shall be alleviated to you or compensated. One of 
the very greatest perplexities of nature is this very 
one, that the Creator should have left you to your- 
selves. You know there is a God, yet you know 
your own ignorance of Him, of His will, of your 
duties, of your prospects. A revelation would be 
the greatest of possible boons which could be vouch- 
safed to you. After all, you do not know, you only 
conclude that there is a God ; you see Him not, you 



XIII.] 



AND OF GRACE. 



293 



do but hear of Him. He acts under a veil ; He is 
on the point of manifesting Himself to you at every 
turn, yet He does not. He has impressed on yom 
hearts anticipations of His majesty ; in every part 
of creation has He left traces of His presence and 
given glimpses of His glory ; you come up to 
the spot, He has been there, but He is gone. 
He has taught you His law, unequivocally indeed, 
but by deduction and by suggestion, not by direct 
command. He has always addressed you circuit- 
ously, by your inward sense, by the received opinion, 
by the events of life, by vague traditions, by dim 
histories ; but as if of set purpose, and by an evident 
law, He never actually appears to your longing eyes 
or your weary heart, He never confronts you with 
Himself. What can be meant by all this ? a spi- 
ritual being abandoned by its Creator ! there must 
doubtless be some awful and all-wise reason for it ; 
still a sore trial it is ; so sore surely, that you must 
gladly hail the news of His interference to remove 
or to diminish it. 

The news then of a revelation, far from suspi- 
cious, is borne in upon our hearts by the strongest 
presumptions of reason in its behalf. It is hard 
to believe that it is not given, as indeed the con- 
duct of mankind has ever shown. You cannot 
help expecting it from the hands of the All-mer- 
ciful, unworthy as you feel yourselves of it. It 
is not that you can claim it, but that He inspires 
hope of it; it is not you that are worthy of the 



294 



MYSTERIES OF NATURE 



[Disc. 



gift, but the gift which is worthy of your Creator. 
It is so urgently probable, that little evidence is 
required for it, even though but little were given. 
Evidence that God has spoken you must have, else 
were you a prey to impostures ; but its extreme 
likelihood allows you, were it necessary, to dispense 
with all proof that is not barely sufficient for your 
purpose. The very fact, I say, that there is a Crea- 
tor, and a hidden one, powerfully bears you on and 
sets you down at the very threshold of revelation, 
and leaves you there looking up earnestly for divine 
tokens, that a revelation has been made. 

Do you go with me as far as this, that a reve- 
lation is probable ? well then, a second remark, and 
I have done. It is this, the teaching of the Church 
manifestly is that revelation. Why should it not be? 
This mark has she upon her at very first sight, that 
she is unlike every other profession of religion. Were 
she God's Prophet or Messenger, she would be dis- 
tinctive in her characteristics, isolated, and special ; 
and so she is. She is one, not only internally, but in 
contrast to every thing else ; she has no relationship 
with any other body. And hence too, you see the 
question lies between the Church and no divine 
messenger at all ; there is no revelation given us, 
unless she is the organ of it. Your anticipation 
has failed, your probability has been falsified, if she 
be not the Prophet of God. I do not say that this 
is an absurdity, for you cannot take it for granted 
that your hope will be fulfilled; but in whatever 



XIII.] 



AND OF GRACE. 



295 



degree it is probable that it will be fulfilled, in that 
degree it is probable that the Church, and nothing 
else, is the means of fulfilling it. Nothing else; for 
you cannot believe in your heart that this or that 
Sect, that this or that Establishment is, in its teach- 
ing and its commands, the oracle of the Most High. 
I know you cannot say in your heart, " I believe this 
or that, because the English Establishment or the 
Scotch declares that it is true." Nor could you, I 
am sure, trust the Russian community, or the Nes- 
torian, or the Jacobite, as speaking from God ; at 
the utmost you might, if you were learned in these 
matters, look on them as venerable depositories of 
historical matter, and witnesses of past ages. You 
would exercise your judgment and criticism on what 
they said, and would never think of taking their 
word as decisive ; they are in no sense Prophets, 
Oracles, Judges, of supernatural truth ; and the con- 
trast between them and the Catholic Church is a 
preliminary evidence in her favour. 

A Prophet is one who comes from God, who speaks 
with authority, who is ever one and the same, who 
is precise and decisive in his statements, who is equal 
to successive difficulties, and can smite and overthrow 
error. Such has the Catholic Church shown herself 
in her history, such is she at this day. She alone 
has the divine spell of controlling the reason of man, 
and of eliciting faith in her word from high and low, 
educated and ignorant, restless and dull-minded. 
Even those who are alien to her, and whom she 



296 



MYSTERIES OE NATURE 



"Disc. 



does not move to obedience, she moves to respect 
and admiration. The most profound thinkers and 
the most sagacious politicians predict her future 
triumphs, while they marvel at her past. Her ene- 
mies are frightened at the sight of her. and have no 
better mode of warfare against her than that of 
blackening her with slanders, or of driving her into 
the wilderness. To see her is to recognize her ; her 
look and bearing is the evidence of her royal 
lineage. True, her tokens might be clearer than 
they are ; I grant it ; she might have been set up 
in Adam, and not in Peter ; she might have em- 
braced the whole family of man : she might have 
been the instrument of inwardly converting all 
hearts ; she might have had no trouble within or 
misfortune without ; she might in short have been 
a heaven on earth ; but, does she not show as glo- 
rious as a creature, as her God does as the Creator \ 
If He does not display the highest possible tokens 
of His presence in nature, why should His Mes- 
senger display hers in grace \ You believe the Scrip- 
tures ; does she not show as divine as Samuel, or as 
Isaias. or as Jeremias. or as Daniel, or in a far higher 
measure ? Has she not notes far more than suffi- 
cient for the purpose of convincing you { She 
takes her rise from the very coming of Christ, and 
receives her charter, as also her very form and charac- 
ter, from His mouth. " Blessed art thou, Simon Bar- 
jona, for flesh and blood hath not revealed it unto 
thee, but My Father who is in heaven. And I say 



XIII.] 



AND OF GRACE. 



297 



unto thee, that thou art Peter, and upon this rock I 
will build My Church, and the gates of hell shall 
not prevail against it. And I will give to thee the 
keys of the kingdom of heaven ; and whatsoever 
thou shalt bind upon earth, shall be bound also in 
heaven, and whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth, 
shall be loosed also in heaven." Coming to you 
then from the very time of the Apostles, spreading 
out into all lands, triumphing over a thousand revo- 
lutions, exhibiting so awful a unity, glorying in so 
mysterious a vitality, so majestic, so imperturbable, 
so bold, so saintly, so sublime, so beautiful, O ye 
sons of men, can ye doubt that she is the Divine 
Messenger for whom ye seek ? O long sought after, 
tardily found, desire of the eyes, joy of the heart, 
the truth after many shadows, the fulness after 
many foretastes, the home after many storms, come 
to her, poor wanderers, for she it is, and she alone, 
who can unfold the meaning of your being and the 
secret of your destiny. She alone can open to you 
the gate of heaven, and put you on your way. 
" Arise, shine, O Jerusalem ; for thy light is come, 
and the glory of the Lord is risen upon thee ; 
for, behold, darkness shall cover the earth, and a 
mist the people, but the Lord shall arise upon thee, 
and His glory shall be seen upon thee." " Open ye 
the gates, that the just nation, that keepeth the 
truth, may enter in. The old error is passed away ; 
Thou wilt keep peace, — peace, because we have 
hoped in Thee. Lord, Thou wilt give peace to us, for 



298 



MYSTERIES OF NATURE 



[Disc. 



Thou has wrought all our works for us. O Lord, 
our God, other lords besides Thee have had dominion 
over us, but in Thee only make we mention of Thy 
Name. The dying, let them not live ; the giants, 
let them not rise again ; therefore Thou hast visited 
and broken them, and hast destroyed all the memory 
of them." 

O my brethren, turn away from the Catholic 
Church, and to whom will you go? it is your only 
chance of peace and assurance in this turbulent, chang- 
ing world. There is nothing between it and scep- 
ticism, when men exert their reason freely. Private 
creeds, fancy religions, may be showy and imposing to 
the many in their day ; national religions may lie huge 
and lifeless, and cumber the ground for centuries, 
and distract the attention or confuse the judgment 
of the learned ; but on the long run it will be found 
that either the Catholic Religion is verily and indeed 
the coming in of the unseen world into this, or that 
there is nothing positive, nothing dogmatic, nothing- 
real in any of our notions as to whence we come and 
whither we are going. Unlearn Catholicism, and 
you become Protestant, Unitarian, Deist, Pantheist, 
sceptic, in a dreadful, but infallible succession ; 
only not infallible, by some accident of your posi- 
tion, of your education, and of your cast of mind ; only 
not infallible, if you dismiss the subject of religion 
from your mind, deny yourself your reason, devote 
your thoughts to moral duties, or dissipate them in en- 
gagements of the world. Go, then, and do your duty 



XIIL] 



AND OF GRACE. 



299 



to your neighbour, be just, be charitable, be hospi- 
table, set a good example, uphold religion as good 
for society, pursue your business, or your profession, 
or your pleasure, eat and drink, read the news, visit 
your friends, build and furnish, plant and sow, buy 
and sell, plead and debate, work for the world, 
settle your children, go home and die, but eschew 
religious inquiry, if you will not have faith, and hope 
not to have faith, if you will not join the Church. 
Avoid, I say, inquiry else, for it will but lead you 
thither, where there is no light, no peace, no hope ; 
it will lead you to the deep pit, where the sun, and 
the moon, and the stars, and the beauteous heavens 
are not, but chilliness, and barrenness, and perpetual 
desolation. O perverse children of men, who refuse 
truth when offered you, because it is not truer ! O 
restless hearts and fastidious intellects, who seek a 
doctrine more salutary than the Redeemer's, and a 
creation more perfect than the Creator's ! God, for- 
sooth, is not great enough for you ; you have those 
high aspirations and those philosophical notions, in- 
spired by the original Tempter, which are content 
with nothing that is, which determine that the Most 
High is too little for your worship, and His attri- 
butes too narrow for your love. Satan fell by 
pride; and what was said of old as if of him, 
may surely now, by way of warning, be applied 
to all who copy him : — " Because thy heart is lifted 
up, and thou hast said, I am God, and I sit in 
the chair of God in the heart of the sea, whereas 



300 MYSTERIES OF NATURE AND OF GRACE. 



thou art a man and not God, and hast set thy heart 
as if it were the heart of God, therefore .... I 
will bring thee to nothing, and thou shalt not be, 
and if thou be sought for, thou shalt not be found 
any more for ever." 



DISCOURSE XIV 



THE MYSTERY OF DIVINE CONDESCENSION. 



The Eternal Word, the Only-begotten Son of the 
Father, put off His glory, and came down upon 
earth, to raise us to heaven. Though He was God, 
He became man ; though He was Lord of all, He 
became as a servant ; " though He was rich, yet for 
our sakes He became poor, that we, through His 
poverty, might be rich." He came from heaven in 
so humble an exterior, that the self-satisfied Phari- 
sees despised Him, and treated Him as a madman 
or an impostor. When He spoke of His father 
Abraham, and implied His knowledge of him, who 
was in truth but the creature of His hands, they said 
in derision, " Thou art not yet fifty years old, and 
hast Thou seen Abraham 1 " He made answer, 
"Amen, amen, I say unto you, Before Abraham 
was made, I am." He had seen Abraham, who 
lived two thousand years before ; yet He was not 



302 



THE MYSTERY OF 



[Disc. 



therefore two thousand years old, more truly than 
He was fifty. He was not two thousand years old, 
because He had no years ; He was the Ancient of 
Days, who never had beginning, and who never will 
have an end ; who is above and beyond time ; who 
is ever young, and ever is beginning, yet never has 
not been, and is as old as He is young, and was as 
old and as young when Abraham lived as when He 
came on earth in our flesh to atone for our sins. 
And hence He says, " Before Abraham was, I am? 
and not "I w;" because with Him there is no 
past or future. It cannot be possibly said of Him, 
that He was or that He will be, but that He is ; He 
is always, always the same, not older because He 
has lived two thousand years in addition, not 
younger because He has not lived them. 

My brethren, if we could get ourselves to enter 
into this high and sacred thought, if we really con- 
templated the Almighty in Himself, then we should 
understand better what His incarnation is to us, and 
what it is in Him. I do not mean, if we worthily 
contemplated Him as He is ; but, even if we con- 
templated Him in such a way as is really possible to 
us, if we did but fix our thoughts on Him, and make 
use of the reason which He has given us, we should 
understand enough of His greatness to feel the 
awfulness of His voluntary self-abasement. Attend, 
then, while I recall to your mind the doctrines 
which reason and revelation combine to teach you 
about the Most High, and then, when you have 



XIV.] 



DIVINE CONDESCENSION. 



303 



fixed your mind upon His infinity, go on to view, in 
the light of that infinity, the meaning of His incar- 
nation. 

Now first consider that reason teaches you there 
must be a God ; else how was this all-wonderful 
universe made? It could not make itself; man 
could not make it, he is but a part of it ; each man 
has a beginning, there must have been a first man, 
and who made him ? To the thought of God then 
we are forced from the nature of the case ; we must 
admit the idea of an Almighty Creator, and that 
Creator must have been from everlasting. He must 
have had no beginning, else how came He to be % 
Thus we should be in our original difficulty, and must 
begin our argument over again. The Creator, I say, 
had no beginning ; for, if He was brought into being 
by another before Him, then how came that other 
to be 1 And so we shall proceed in an unprofitable 
series or catalogue of creators, which is as difficult 
to conceive as an endless line of men. Besides, if it 
was not the Creator Himself who was from ever- 
lasting, then there would be one being who was 
from everlasting, and another who was Creator; 
which is all one with saying that there are two 
Gods. The Creator then of the world had no begin- 
ning ; — and, if so, He can undergo no change. What 
is everlasting has no growth nor decay ; It is what 
It ever was, and ever shall be the same. As It 
originated in nothing else ; nothing else can interfere 
with It or affect It. Besides, every thing that is 



304 



THE MYSTERY OF 



[Disc. 



has originated in It; every thing therefore is de- 
pendent on It, and It is independently of every 
thing. 

Contemplate then the Supreme Being, the Being 
of beings, even so far as I have yet described Him ; 
fix the idea of Him in your minds. He is one ; He 
has no rival ; He has no equal ; He is unlike any 
thing else ; He is sovereign ; He can do what He 
will. He is unchangeable from first to last ; He 
is all-perfect ; He is infinite in His power and His 
wisdom, or He could not have made this immense 
world which we see by day and by night. 

Next, this follows from what I have said ; — that, 
since He is from everlasting, and has created all 
things from a certain beginning, He has lived in an 
eternity before He began to create any thing. What 
a wonderful thought is this ! there was a state of 
things in which God was by Himself, and nothing 
else but He. There was no earth, no sky, no sun, 
no stars, no space, no time, no beings of any kind ; 
no men, no Angels, no Seraphim. His throne was 
without ministers ; He was not waited on by any ; 
all was silence, all was repose, there was nothing 
but God ; and this state continued, not for a while 
only, but for a measureless duration ; it was a state 
which had ever been ; it was the rule of things, and 
creation was an innovation upon it. Creation is, 
comparatively speaking, but of yesterday ; it has 
lasted a poor six thousand years ; say sixty thou- 
sand, if you will ; what is this to eternity ? nothing 



XIV.] 



DIVINE CONDESCENSION. 



305 



at all ; not so much as a drop compared to the 
whole ocean, or a grain of sand to the whole earth. 
I say, through a whole eternity God was by Himself, 
with no other being but Himself ; with nothing ex- 
ternal to Himself, not working, but at rest, not 
speaking, not receiving homage from any, not glo- 
rified in creatures, but blessed in Himself and by 
Himself, and wanting nothing. 

What an idea this gives us of the Almighty ! He 
is above us, my brethren, we feel He is ; how little 
can we understand Him ! We fall in even with 
men upon earth, whose ways are so different from 
ours that we cannot understand them ; we marvel 
at them ; they pursue courses so unlike our own, 
they take recreations so peculiar to themselves, that 
we despair of finding any thing in common between 
them and ourselves ; we cannot make conversation 
when we are with them. Thus stirring and ambi- 
tious men wonder at those who live among books ; 
sinners wonder at those who attend the Sacraments 
and mortify their passions ; thrifty persons wonder 
at those who are lavish of their money ; men who 
love society wonder at those who live in solitude 
and are happy in it. We cannot enter into our fel- 
lows; we call them strange and incomprehensible; 
but what are they compared with the all-marvellous- 
riess of the Everlasting God? He alone indeed is 
incomprehensible, who has not only lived an eternity 
without beginning, but who has lived through a 

x 



806 



THE MYSTERY OF 



[Disc. 



whole eternity by Himself, and has not wearied 
of the solitude. Which of us, or how few of us, 
could live a week in comfort by ourselves ? You 
have heard, my brethren, of solitary confinement as 
a punishment assigned to criminals, and at length 
it becomes more severe than any other punishment : 
it is said at length to make men mad. We cannot 
live without objects, without aims, without employ- 
ments, without companions. We cannot live simply 
in ourselves; the mind preys upon itself, if left to 
itself. This is the case with us mortal men ; now 
raise your minds to God. O the vast contrast ! He 
lived a whole eternity in that state, a few poor 
years of which to us is madness. He lived a whole 
eternity without change of any kind. Day and 
night, sleep and meal-time, at least are changes, 
unavoidable changes, in the life of the most soli- 
tary upon earth. A prison, if it has nothing else 
to relieve its dreariness and its hopelessness, has at 
least this, that the poor prisoner sleeps ; he sleeps, 
and suspends his misery ; he sleeps, and recruits his 
power of bearing it ; but the Eternal is the sleep- 
less, He pauses not, He suspends not His powers, 
He is never tired of Himself ; He is never wearied 
of His own infinity. He was from eternity ever in 
action, though ever at rest ; ever surely in rest and 
peace profound and ineffable ; yet with a living, 
present mind, self-possessed, and all-conscious, com- 
prehending Himself and sustaining the comprehen- 



XIV.] 



DIVINE CONDESCENSION. 



807 



sion. He rested ever, but He rested in Himself; 
His own resource, His own end, His own contem- 
plation, His own blessedness. 

Yes, so it was ; and, if it is incomprehensible that 
He should have existed solitary through an eternity, 
is it not incomprehensible too, that He should have 
ever given up that solitariness, and have willed to 
surround Himself with creation ? Why was He not 
content to be as He had been ? why did He bring 
into existence those who could not add to His bless- 
edness, and were not secure of their own ? Why did 
He give them that gift which we see they possess, 
of doing right or wrong as they pleased, and of work- 
ing out their ruin as well as their salvation ? why did 
He create a world like that which is before our eyes, 
which at best so dimly shows forth His glory, and at 
worst is a scene of sin and of sorrow ? He might 
have made a far more excellent world than this ; 
He might have excluded sin ; but, O wonderful 
mystery, He has surrounded Himself with the cries of 
fallen souls, and has created and opened the great pit. 
He has willed, after an eternity of peace, to allow 
of everlasting anarchy, of pride, and blasphemy, and 
crime, and hatred of Himself, and the worm that 
dieth not. Thus He is simply incomprehensible to 
us, mortal men; well might the ancient heathen 
shrink from answering, when a king, his patron, 
asked what God was ! He begged for a day to con- 
sider his reply ; at the end of it, for two more ; and, 
when the two were ended, for four besides ; for in 

x 2 



308 



THE MYSTERY OF 



[Disc. 



truth he found that the thought, instead of bringing 
him towards the solution of the problem, did but 
drive him back ; the more he questioned, the vaster 
grew the theme, and where he drew one conclusion, 
thence issued forth a hundred fresh difficulties to 
confound his reason. For in truth the being and 
attributes of God are a subject, not for reason 
simply, but for faith ; and we must accept His own 
word about Himself. 

And now proceed to another thought, my brethren, 
which I have partly implied and partly expressed 
already. If the Almighty Creator be such as I have 
described Him, He in no wise depends on His crea- 
tures. They sin, they perish, they are saved, they 
praise Him eternally ; but, though He loves all the 
creatures of His hand, though He visits all of them 
without exception with influences of His grace so 
numerous and so urgent, that not till the disclosures 
of the last day shall we rightly conceive of them ; 
though He deigns to be glorified in His Saints 
though He is their all in all, their continued life, 
and power, and blessedness, — still they are nothing to 
Him. They do not increase His happiness if they 
are saved, or diminish it if they are lost. I do not 
mean that He is at a distance from them ; He does 
not so live in Himself as to abandon the creation to 
the operation of laws which He has stamped upon 
it. He is every where a vigilant and active Provi- 
dence \ He is in every one of His creatures, and in 
every one of their actions ; if He were not in them, 



XIV.] 



DIVINE CONDESCENSION. 



309 



they would fall back into nothing. He is every 
where on earth, and sees every crime committed 
whether under the sun or in the gloom of night ; 
He is even the sustaining power of those who sin ; 
He is most close to every the most polluted soul ; 
He is in the midst of the eternal prison ; yet nothing 
touches Him, though He touches all things. The 
sun's rays penetrate into the most hideous recesses, 
yet keep their brightness and their perfection ; and 
the Almighty witnesses and suffers evil, yet is not 
touched or tried by the creature's wilfulness, pride, 
impurity, or unbelief. The lusts of earth and the 
blasphemies of hell neither sully His purity nor 
impair His majesty. If the whole world were to go 
and plunge into the eternal gulf, the loss would be 
theirs, not His. In the dread contest between good 
and evil, whether the Church conquers at once, or is 
oppressed for the time, and labours, whether she is 
in persecution, or in triumph, or in peace, whether 
His enemies hold out or are routed, when the inno- 
cent sin, when the just are falling, when good 
Angels weep, when souls are hardened, He is one 
and the same. He is in His blessedness still, and 
not even the surface is ruffled of His everlasting 
rest. He neither hopes, nor fears, nor desires, nor 
sorrows, nor repents. All around Him seems full of 
agitation and confusion, but in His eternal decrees 
and infallible foreknowledge there is nothing con- 
tingent, nothing uncertain, nothing which is not 



310 



THE MYSTERY OF 



[Disc. 



part of one vast plan, as fixed in its issue and as 
unchangeable, as is His own essence. 

Such is the great God, so all-sufficient, so all- 
blessed, so separate from creatures, so inscrutable, 
so unapproachable. Who can see Him? who can 
fathom Him ? who can move Him ? who can change 
Him? who can even speak of Him ? He is all holy, 
all patient, all serene, and all true. He says and 
He does ; He delays and He executes ; He warns 
and He punishes; He punishes, He rewards, He 
forbears, He pardons, according to an eternal decree, 
without imperfection, without vacillation, without 
inconsistency. 

And now that I have set before you, my brethren, 
in human language, some of the attributes of the 
Adorable God, perhaps you are tempted to complain 
that, instead of winning you to the All-glorious and 
All-good, I have but repelled you from Him. You 
are tempted to exclaim, — He is so far above us that 
the thought of Him does but frighten me ; I cannot 
believe that He cares for me. I believe firmly that 
He is infinite perfection ; and I love that perfection, 
not so much indeed as I could wish, — still in my 
measure I love it for its own sake, and I wish to 
love it above all things, and I well understand that 
there is no creature, but must love it unless he 
has fallen from grace. But there are two feelings, 
which, alas, I have a difficulty in entertaining ; I 
believe and I love, but without fervour, without 



XIV.] 



DIVINE CONDESCENSION. 



311 



keenness, because my heart is not kindled by hope, 
nor subdued and melted with gratitude. Hope and 
gratitude I wish to have, and have not ; I know that 
He is loving towards all His works ; but how am I 
to believe that He gives me personally a thought, 
and cares for me for my own sake ? I am beneath His 
love ; He looks on me as an atom in a vast universe. 
He acts by general laws, and, if He is kind to me, 
it is, not for my sake, but because it is according to 
His nature to be kind. And hence it is that I am 
drawn over to sinful man with an intenser feeling 
than to my glorious Maker. Kings and great men 
upon earth, when they appear in public, are not 
content with a mere display of their splendour ; 
they show themselves as well as their attributes; 
they look around them ; they notice individuals ; 
they have a kind eye, or a courteous gesture, or an 
open hand, for all who come near them. They 
scatter among the crowd the largess of their smiles 
and of their words. And then men go home, and 
tell their friends, and treasure up to their latest day, 
how that so great a personage took notice of them 
or of a child of theirs, or accepted a present at their 
hand, or gave expression to some sentiment, with- 
out point in itself, but precious as addressed to 
them. Thus does my fellow man engage and win 
me ; but there is a gulf between me and my great 
God. I shall fall back on myself, and grovel in my 
nothingness, till He looks down from heaven, till 
He calls me, till He takes interest in me. It is a 



312 



THE MYSTERY OF 



[Disc. 



want in my nature to have one who can weep with 
me, and rejoice with me, and in a wa) T minister to 
me ; and this would be presumption in me, and 
worse, to hope to find in the Infinite and Eternal 
God. 

This is what you may be tempted to say, my 
brethren, not without impatience, while you con- 
template the Almighty, as the conscience pourtrays 
Him, and as reason concludes about Him, and as 
creation witnesses of Him ; and I have dwelt on it, 
in order, by way of contrast, to set before you, as I 
proposed when I began, how your complaint is an- 
swered, in the great mystery of the Incarnation. 
Never suppose that you are left by God ; never 
suppose that He does not know you, your minds 
and your powers, better than you do yourselves. 
Do you not suppose, that, if the complaint be true, 
He has thought of it before you ? " Before they 
call, I will attend," says He, " and while they speak, 
I will hear." Add this to your general notion of His 
incomprehensibility, viz. that though He is infinite, 
He can bow Himself to the finite ; have faith in the 
mystery of his condescension ; confess that, though 
He "inhabiteth eternity," He " dwelleth with a 
contrite and humble spirit," and "looketh down 
upon the lowly." Give up this fretfulness, quit 
these self-consuming thoughts, go out of your- 
selves, lift up your eyes, look around, and see 
if you can discern nothing more hopeful, more 
gracious in this wide world, than these perplexities 



XIV.] 



DIVINE CONDESCENSION. 



313 



over which you have been brooding. My brethren, 
we are so constituted by our Maker, that we can 
love Him for His own sake, and He has given us 
means of doing so. He has not founded our wor- 
ship of Him in hope, nor made self-interest the 
measure of our veneration. And we have eyes to 
see much more than the difficulties of His essence ; 
and the great disclosures, which nature begins, reve- 
lation brings to perfection. Lift up your eyes, I 
say, and look out upon the material world, and there 
you will see one attribute above others on its very 
face which will reverse your sad meditations on Him 
who made it. He has traced out many of His attri- 
butes upon it, His immensity, His wisdom, His 
power, His loving-kindness, and Hia skill ; but more 
than all, its very face is illuminated with the glory 
and beauty of His eternal excellence. This is that 
attribute in which all His attributes coalesce, which 
is the perfection, or (as I may say) the flower and 
bloom of their combination. As among men youth, 
and health, and vigour, have their finish in that 
grace of outline, and lustre of complexion, and elo- 
quence of expression, which we call beauty, so in 
the Almighty God, though we cannot comprehend 
His holy attributes, and shrink from their unfathom- 
able profound, yet we can, as creatures, recognize and 
rejoice in the brightness, harmony, and serenity, 
which is their resulting excellence. This is that 
quality which, by the law of our nature, draws us off 
ourselves in admiration, which moves our affections, 



314 



THE MYSTERY OF 



[Disc. 



which wins from us a disinterested homage ; and it 
is shed in profusion, in token of its Creator, over the 
visible world. 

Leave then the prison of your own reasonings, 
leave the town, the work of man, the haunt of sin ; 
go forth, my brethren, far from the tents of Cedar 
and the slime of Babylon ; with the patriarch go 
forth to meditate in the field, and from the splen- 
dours of the work imagine the unimaginable glory 
of the Architect. Mount some bold eminence, and 
look back, when the sun is high and full upon the 
earth, when mountains, cliffs, and sea, rise up before 
you like a brilliant pageant, with outlines noble and 
graceful, and tints and shadows soft, clear, and har- 
monious, giving depth and unity to the whole; and 
then go through the forest, or fruitful field, or along 
meadow and stream, and listen, to the distant coun- 
try sounds, and drink in the fragrant air which is 
poured around you in spring or summer ; or go 
among the gardens, and delight your senses with 
the grace and splendour, and the various sweetness 
of the flowers you find there ; then think of the 
almost mysterious influence upon the mind of parti- 
cular scents, or the emotion which some gentle, 
peaceful strain excites in us, or how soul and body 
are rapt and carried away captive by the concord of 
musical sounds, where the ear is open to their power ; 
and then, when you have ranged through sights, and 
sounds, and odours, and your heart kindles, and your 
voice is full of praise and worship, reflect, not that 



XIV.] 



DIVINE CONDESCENSION. 



315 



they tell you nothing of their Maker, but that they 
are the poorest and dimmest glimmerings of His 
glory, and the very refuse of His exuberant riches, 
and but the dusky smoke which precedes the flame, 
compared with Him who made them. Such is the 
Creator in His Eternal Uncreated Beauty, that, 
were it given to us to behold it, we should die of 
very rapture at the sight. Moses, unable to forget 
the token of it he had once seen in the Bush, asked 
to see it fully, and on this very account was refused. 
" He said, Show me Thy glory ; and He said, Thou 
canst not see My Face ; for man shall not see Me 
and live." When Saints have been favoured with 
glimpses of it, it has thrown them into ecstacy, 
broken their poor frame of dust and ashes, and 
pierced it through with such keen distress, that they 
have cried out to God, in the very midst of their 
transports, that He would hold His hand, and, in 
tenderness to them, check the abundance of His 
consolations. What Saints partake in fact, we enjoy 
in thought and meditation ; and even that mere re- 
flection of God's glory is sufficient to sweep away the 
gloomy, envious thoughts of Him which circle round 
us, and to lead us to forget ourselves in the contem- 
plation of the All-beautiful. He is so bright, so ma- 
jestic, so serene, so harmonious, so pure ; He so sur- 
passes, as its prototype and fulness, all that is graceful, 
gentle, sweet, and fair on earth ; His voice is so touch- 
ing, and His smile so winning while so awful, that we 
need nothing more than to gaze and listen, and be 



316 



THE MYSTERY OF 



"Disc. 



happy. Say not this is not enough for love and joy : 
even in sights of this earth, the pomp and ceremonial 
of royalty is sufficient for the beholder ; he needs no- 
thing more than to be allowed to see ; and were we 
but admitted to the courts of heaven, the sight of 
Him, ever transporting, ever new. though He ad- 
dressed us not. would be our meat and drink to all 
eternity. 

And if He has so constituted us. that, in spite of 
the abyss which lies between Him and as, in spite 
of the mystery of His attributes and the feebleness 
of our reason, the very vision of Him dispels all 
doubt, allures our shrinking souls, and is our ever- 
lasting joy, what shall we say. my brethren, when we 
are told that He has also condescended to take 
possession of us and to rule us by means of hope and 
gratitude, those " cords of Adam," by which one 
man is bound to another ? You say that God and 
man never can be one, that man cannot bear the 
sight and touch of His Creator, nor the Creator 
condescend to the feebleness of the creature : but 
blush and be confounded to hear, O peevish, rest- 
less hearts, that He has come down from His high 
throne and humbled Himself to the creature, in 
order that the creature might be strengthened and 
inspired to rise to Him. It was not enough to give 
us grace ; it was little to impart to us a celestial light, 
and a sanctity such as Angels had received ; little to 
create Adam in original justice, with a nature super- 
added to his own, with an intellect which could 



XIV.] 



DIVINE CONDESCENSION. 



317 



know God and a soul which could love Him ; He 
revealed to our first father in his state of innocence 
a higher purpose which in the fulness of time was to 
be accomplished in his descendants. It became the 
Wisdom of God, who is the eternally glorious and 
beautiful, to impress these attributes upon men by 
His very presence and personal indwelling, that, as 
He was by nature the Only-begotten Image of the 
Father, so He might in time become " the First-born 
of every creature." It became Him, who is higher than 
the highest, to show that even humility, if it dare be 
said, was in the number of His attributes, by taking 
Adam's nature upon Himself, and manifesting Him- 
self to men and Angels in it. It became Him, of 
whom are all things, and who is in all things, not to 
create new natures, which had not been before, 
inconstant spirit and corruptible matter, without 
taking them to Himself and uniting them to the 
Person of God. And see, my brethren, when you 
complain that we men are cut off from God, see that 
He has done more for you than He has done for 
those " who are greater in strength and power." The 
Angels surpass us in their original nature ; they are 
immortal spirits, and we are subject to death ; they 
have been visited by larger measures of God's grace, 
and they serve in His heaven, and are blessed by 
the vision of His face ; yet " He took not on Him 
the nature of Angels," He made not Himself the 
Brother of those who stood, He shed not His blood 
for those who fell ; He turned aside from the eldest- 



318 



THE MYSTERY OF 



[Disc. 



born of creation, He chose the younger. He chose 
him in whom an immortal spirit was united to a frail 
and perishable body. He turned aside to him 
whom an irritable, wayward, dim-sighted, and pas- 
sionate nature rendered less worthy of His love ; He 
turned to him ; He made " the first last, and the 
last first ;" " He raised the needy from the earth, 
and lifted the poor out of the mire," and bade 
Angels bow down in adoration to a material form, 
for it was His. 

Well, my brethren, your God has taken on Him 
your nature, and now prepare yourselves to see in 
human flesh that glory and that beauty on which 
the Angels gaze. Since you are to see Emmanuel, 
since " the brilliancy of the Eternal Light and the 
unspotted mirror of God's majesty, and the Image 
of His goodness/' is to be born of a Virgin, since the 
manifold attributes of the Infinite are to be poured 
out upon your minds through material channels and 
the operations of a human soul, since He, whose 
contemplation did but trouble you in nature, is 
coming to take you captive by a manifestation 
which is both intelligible to you and a pledge that 
He loves you one by one, raise high your expecta- 
tions, for they cannot suffer disappointment. Doubt- 
less He will take a form such as " eye hath not seen, 
nor ear heard of " before. It will be a body framed 
in the heavens, and only committed to the custody 
of Mary ; a form of light and glory, worthy of Him, 
who is "blessed for evermore" and comes to bless us 



XIV.] 



DIVINE CONDESCENSION. 



319 



with His presence. Pomp and pride of men He may 
indeed despise ; we do not look for Him in kings' 
courts, or in the array of war, or in the philosophic 
school : but doubtless He will choose some calm and 
holy spot, and men will go out thither and find their 
Incarnate God. He will be tenant of some paradise, 
like Adam or Elias, or He will dwell in the mystic 
garden of the Canticles, where nature ministers its 
best and purest to its Creator. " The fig-tree will 
put forth her green figs, the vines in flower yield 
their sweet smell;" "spikenard and saffron" will be 
there ; " the sweet cane and cinnamon, myrrh and 
aloes, with all the chief perfumes ;" " the glory of 
Libanus, the beauty of Carmel," before " the glory 
of the Lord and the beauty of our God." There will 
He show Himself at stated times, with Angels for 
His choristers and Saints for His door-keepers, to 
the poor and needy, to the humble and devout, to 
those who have kept their innocence undefiled, or 
have purged their sins away by long penance and 
masterful contrition. 

Such would be the conjecture of man, at fault 
when he speculated on the height of God, and now 
again at fault when He anticipates the depth. He 
thinks that a royal glory is the note of His presence 
upon earth ; lift up your eyes, my brethren, and 
answer whether he has guessed aright. incompre- 
hensible in eternity and in time ! solitary in heaven, 
and solitary upon earth ! " Who is This, that cometh 
from Edom, with dyed garments from Bozra ? Why 



820 



THE MYSTERY OF 



[Disc. 



is Thy cloak red, and Thy garments like theirs 
that tread in the wine-fat ? " The Maker of man, 
the Wisdom of God, has come, not in strength, but 
in weakness. He has come, not to assert a claim, 
but to pay a debt. Instead of wealth, He has come 
poor ; instead of honour, He has come in ignominy ; 
instead of blessedness, He has come to suffer. He 
has been delivered over from His birth to pain and 
contempt ; His delicate frame is worn down by cold 
and heat, by hunger and sleeplessness ; His hands 
are rough and bruised with a mechanic's toil ; His 
eyes are dimmed with weeping ; His Name is cast 
out as evil. He is flung amid the throng of man ; 
He wanders from place to place ; He is the com- 
panion of sinners. He is followed by a mixed mul- 
titude, who care more for meat and drink than for 
His teaching, or by a city's populace which deserts 
Him in the day of trial. And at length "the 
Brightness of God's glory and the Image of His Sub- 
stance" is fettered, haled to and fro, buffeted, spit upon, 
mocked, cursed, scourged, and tortured. " He hath 
no beauty nor comeliness ; He is despised and the 
most abject of men, a man of sorrows and acquainted 
with infirmity ;" nay He is a " leper, and smitten of 
God, and humbled." And so His clothes are torn off, 
and He is lifted up upon the bitter Cross, and there 
He hangs, a spectacle for profane, impure, and savage 
eyes, and a mockery for the evil spirit whom He had 
cast down into hell. 

O wayward man ! discontented first that thy God 



XIV.] 



DIVINE CONDESCENSION. 



321 



is far from thee, discontented again when He has 
drawn near, complaining first that He is high, com- 
plaining next that He is low, — unhumbled being, 
w T hen wilt thou cease to make thyself thine own 
centre, and learn that God is infinite in all He 
does, infinite when He reigns in heaven, infinite 
when He serves on earth, exacting our homage in 
the midst of His Angels, and winning it from us 
in the midst of sinners? Adorable He is in His 
eternal rest, adorable in the glory of His court, 
adorable in the beauty of His works, most adorable 
of all, most royal, most persuasive in His deformity. 
Think you not, my brethren, that to Mary, when 
she held His light lifeless weight in her maternal 
arms, when she gazed on the pale countenance and 
the dislocated limbs of her God, when she traced 
the wandering lines of blood, when she counted the 
weals, the bruises, and the wounds, which dis- 
honoured that virginal flesh, think you not that to 
her eyes it was more beautiful than when she first 
worshipped it, pure, radiant, and fragrant, on the 
night of His nativity? Dilectus mens candidus et 
rubicundus, as the Church sings ; " My beloved is 
white and ruddy ; His whole form doth breathe of 
love, and doth provoke to love in turn ; His drooping 
head, His open palms, and His breast all bare. 
My beloved is white and ruddy, choice out of 
thousands ; His head is of the finest gold ; His locks 
are branches of palm-trees, black as a raven. His 
eyes as doves upon brooks of waters, which are 



322 THE MYSTERY OF DIVINE CONDESCENSION. 

washed with milk, and sit beside the plentiful 
streams. His cheeks are as beds of spices set by 
the perfumers ; His lips are lilies dropping choice 
myrrh. His hands are turned and golden, full of 
jacinths; His throat is most sweet, and He is all 
lovely. Such is my Beloved, and He is my friend, 

ye daughters of Jerusalem." 

So is it, O dear and gracious Lord ; " the day of 
death is better than the day of birth, and better is 
the house of mourning than the house of feasting." 
Better for me that Thou shouldest come thus abject 
and dishonourable, than hadst Thou taken on Thee 
a body fair as Adam's when he came out of Thy 
Hand. Thy glory sullied, Thy beauty marred, those 
five wounds welling out blood, those temples torn 
and raw, that broken heart, that crushed and livid 
frame, they teach me more, than wert Thou Solo- 
mon " in the diadem wherewith his mother crowned 
him in the day of his heart's joy." The gentle and 
tender expression of that Countenance is no new 
beauty, or created grace ; it is but the manifestation, 
in a human form, of attributes which have been from 
everlasting. Thou canst not change, O Jesus ; and, 
as Thou art still mystery, so wast Thou always love, 

1 cannot comprehend Thee more than I did, before 
I saw Thee on the Cross ; but I have gained my 
lesson. As I adore Thee, O Lover of souls, in Thy 
humiliation, so will I admire Thee and embrace Thee 
in Thy infinite and everlasting power. 



DISCOURSE XV 



THE INFINITUDE OF THE DIVINE ATTRIBUTES. 



We all know well and firmly hold, that our Lord 
Jesus Christ, the Son of God, died on the Cross in 
satisfaction for our sins. This truth is the great 
foundation of all our hopes, and the object of our 
most earnest faith and most loving worship. And 
yet, however well we know it, it is a subject which 
admits of drawing out, and insisting on in detail, in 
a way which most persons will feel profitable to 
themselves. I shall now attempt to do this in some 
measure, and to follow the reflections to which it 
leads ; though at this season 1 many words would be 
out of place. 

Christ died for our gins, for the sins of the whole 
world ; but He need not have died for them, for the 
Almighty God might have saved us all, might have 
saved the whole world, without His dying. He 



1 Passion-tide. 
Y 2 



324> 



THE INFINITUDE OF 



[Disc. 



might have pardoned and brought to heaven every 
individual child of Adam, without the incarnation 
and death of His Son. He might have saved us 
without any ransom and without any delay. He 
might have abolished original sin, and restored 
Adam at once. His word had been enough ; with 
Him to say is to do. " All things art possible to 
Thee," was the very reason our Lord gave in His 
agony, for asking that the chalice might pass from 
Him. As in the beginning He said, "Let light be 
made, and it was made ;" so might He have spoken, 
and sin would have vanished from the soul, and 
guilt with it. Or He might have employed a 
mediator less powerful than His own Son ; He 
might have accepted the imperfect satisfaction of 
some mere man. He wants not for resources, but He 
willed otherwise. He who ever does the best, saw 
in His infinite wisdom that it was expedient and 
fitting to take a ransom. As He has not hindered 
the reprobate from resisting His grace and rejecting 
redemption, so He has not pardoned any who are to 
enter His eternal kingdom without a true and suffi- 
cient satisfaction for their sin. And this is why the 
coming of the Word was necessary ; for if a true 
satisfaction was to be made, then nothing could ac- 
complish this, short of the incarnation of the All-holy. 

You see then, my brethren, how voluntary was 
the mission and death -of our Lord; if an instance 
can be imagined of voluntary suffering, it is this. 
He came to die when He need not have died ; 



XV.] 



THE DIVINE ATTRIBUTES. 



325 



He died to satisfy for what might have been par- 
doned without satisfaction ; He paid a price, which 
need not have been asked, nay, which needed to be 
accepted 2 when paid. It may be said with truth, 
that, rigorously speaking, one being can never, by his 
own suffering, simply discharge the debt of another's 
sin 3 . Accordingly He died, not in order to exert a 
peremptory claim on the divine justice, if I may so 
speak, — as if He were bargaining in the market- 
place or pursuing a plea in a court of law. — but in 
a more loving, generous, munificent way, He shed 
that blood, which was worth ten thousand lives of 
men, worth more than the blood of all the sons of 

2 Dicendum videtur satisfactionem Christi, licet fuerit rigorosa 
quoad aequalitatem et condignitatem pretii soluti, non tamen 
fuisse rigorosam quoad modum solutionis, sed indiguisse aliqua 

gratia libera Dei Si aliquis ita peccavit, ut juste pu- 

niatur exilio unius mensis, et velit redimere pecunia illud exilium, 
offeratque summam sequivalentera, immo excedentem, non du- 
bium quin satisfiat rigori justitiae vindicativae, si attendas ad men- 
suram pcense ; non tamen satisfit, si attendas ad modum ; si enim 
judex gratiose non admittat illam compensationem, jus habet ex 
rigore justitiae punitivae ad exigendum exilium, quantumvis alia 
sequalis et longe major pcena offeratur. — De Lug. Incarn. iii. 10. 

3 Qui redemit captivum solvendo pretium, solvit quantum do- 
mino debetur ex justitia, solum enim debetur illi pretium ex con- 
tractu et conventione inter ipsum et redemptorem Nullum 

est justitiae debitum cui non satisfiat per solutionem illius pretii. 
At vero pro injuria non solum debetur ex justitia satisfactio ut- 
cunque, sed exhibenda ab ipso offensore .... sicut nec qui 
abstulit librum, satisfacit adaequate reddendo pretium aequivalens. 
—Ibid. iv. 2. 



326 



THE INFINITUDE OF 



[Disc. 



Adam heaped together, in accordance with His 
Father's will, who, for wise reasons unrevealed, 
exacted it as the condition of their pardon. 

Nor was this all ; — one drop of His blood had 
been sufficient to satisfy for our sins ; He might 
have offered His circumcision as an atonement, and 
it would have been sufficient ; one moment of His 
agony of blood had been sufficient; one stroke of 
the scourge might have wrought a sufficient satis- 
faction. But neither circumcision, agony, nor 
scourging was our redemption, because He did not 
offer them as such. The price He paid was nothing 
short of the whole treasure of His blood, poured 
forth to the last drop from His veins and sacred 
heart. He shed His whole life for us; He left 
Himself empty of His all. He left His throne on 
high, He gave up His home on earth ; He parted 
with His Mother, He gave His strength and His 
toil, He gave His body and soul, He offered up His 
passion, His crucifixion, and His death, that man 
should not be bought for nothing. This is what the 
Apostle intimates in saying that we are " bought 
with a great price ;" and the Prophet, while he 
declares that "with the Lord there is mercy, and 
with Him a copious" or " plenteous redemption." 

This is what I wished to draw out distinctly, my 
brethren, for your devout meditation. We might 
have been pardoned without the humiliation of the 
Eternal Word ; again, we might have been redeemed 
by one single drop of His blood ; but still on earth 



XV.] 



THE DIVINE ATTRIBUTES. 



321 



He came, and a death He died, a deatli of incon- 
ceivable suffering; and all this He did as a free 
offering to His Father, not as forcing His acceptance 
of it. From beginning to the end it was in the 
highest sense a voluntary work ; and this is what is 
so overpowering to the mind in the thought of it. 
It is as if He delighted in having to surfer ; as if 
He wished to show all creatures, what would other- 
wise have seemed impossible, that the Creator could 
practise, in the midst of His heavenly blessedness, the 
virtues of a creature, self-abasement and humility. 
It is as if He wished, all-glorious as He was from all 
eternity, as a sort of addition, (if we may so speak,) 
to His perfections, to submit to a creature's condi- 
tion in its most afflictive form. It is, if we may use 
human language, a prodigality of charity, or that 
heroic love of toil and hardship, which is poorly 
shadowed out in the romantic defenders of the inno- 
cent or the oppressed, whom we read of in history 
or fable, who went about the earth, nobly exposing 
themselves to peril for any who asked their aid. 

Or rather, and that is what I wish to insist upon, 
it suggests to us, as by a specimen, the infinitude of 
God. We all confess that He is infinite: He has 
an infinite number of perfections, and He is infinite 
in each of them. This we shall confess at once ; 
but, we ask, what is infinity? what is meant by say- 
ing He is infinite? We seem to wish to be told, as 
if we had nothing given us to throw light on the 
question. Why, my brethren, we have much given 



828 



THE INFINITUDE OF 



[Disc. 



us ; the outward exhibition of infinitude is mystery ; 
and the mysteries of nature and of grace are nothing 
but the mode in which His infinitude encounters us 
and is brought home to our minds. Men confess 
that He is infinite, yet they start and object, as soon 
as His infinitude comes in contact with their imagin- 
ation and acts upon their reason. They cannot bear 
the fulness, the superabundance, the inexhaustible 
flowing forth, and " vehement rushing 4 ," and encom- 
passing flood of the divine attributes. They restrain 
and limit them to their own comprehension, they 
measure them by their own standard, they fashion 
them by their own model ; and when they discern 
aught of the unfathomable depth, the immensity, of 
any single excellence or perfection of the Divine 
Nature, His love, or His justice, or His power, they 
are at once offended, and turn away, and refuse to 
believe. 

Now, this instance of our Lord's humiliation is a 
case in point. What would be profusion and extra- 
vagance in man, is but suitable or necessary, if I may 
say so, in Him whose resources are illimitable. We 
read in history accounts of oriental munificence, 
which sound like fiction, and which would gain not 
applause but contempt in Europe, where wealth is 
not concentrated, as in the East, upon a few out of 
a whole people. "Royal munificence" has become a 
proverb, from the idea that a king's treasures are 

4 Tanquam advenientis spiritus vehementis. 



XV.] 



THE DIVINE ATTRIBUTES. 



329 



such as to make large presents and bounties, not 
allowable only, but appropriate in him. He, then, 
who is infinite, may be only doing what is best, and 
holiest, and wisest, in doing what to man seems 
infinitely to exceed the necessity ; for He cannot ex- 
ceed his own powers or resources. Man has limited 
means and definite duties ; it would be waste in him 
to lavish a thousand pieces of gold on one poor man, 
when with the same he might have done substantial 
good to many ; but God is as rich, as profound and 
vast, as infinite, when He has done a work of infinite 
bounty, as before He set about it. " Knowest thou 
not," He says, " or hast thou not heard ? the Ever- 
lasting God, the Lord, who created the ends of the 
earth, shall not faint, nor weary ; nor is there search- 
ing of his wisdom." He cannot do a small work ; 
He cannot act by halves ; He ever does whole 
works, great works. Had Christ been incarnate for 
but one single soul, who should have been surprised ? 
who should not have praised and blessed Him for 
telling us in one instance, and by a specimen, what 
that love and bounty are, which fill the heavens ? 
and in like manner, when in fact He has taken flesh 
for those, who might have been saved without it, 
though more suitably to His glorious majesty with 
it, and moreover has shed His whole blood in satis- 
faction, when a drop might have sufficed, shall we 
think such teaching strange and hard to receive, and 
not rather consistent, and merely consistent, with 
that great truth, which we all start with admitting, 



330 



THE INFINITUDE OF 



[Disc. 



that He is infinite % Surely it would be most irra- 
tional in us, to admit His infinitude in the general, 
and to reject the examples of it in particular ; to 
maintain that He is mystery, yet to deny that His 
works are mysterious. 

We must not, then, bring in economical theories, 
borrowed from the schools of the day, when we 
would reason about the Eternal God. The world is 
ever doing so, when it speaks of religion. It will 
not allow the miracles of the Saints, because it pre- 
tends that those wrought by the Apostles were 
sufficient for the purpose which miracles had, or 
ought forsooth to have, in view. I wonder how it 
comes to admit that such multitudes of human 
beings are born and die in infancy; or that a pro- 
fusion of seeds is cast over the face of the earth, 
some of which fall by the way-side, some on the 
rock, some among thorns, and only a remnant on 
the good ground. How wasteful was that sower ! so 
thinks the w T orld, but an Apostle cries out, " O the 
depth of the riches of the wisdom and of the know- 
ledge of God ! how incomprehensible are His judg- 
ments, and how unsearchable His ways !" 

The world judges of God's condescension as it 
judges of His bounty. We know from Scripture 
that " the teaching of the Cross" was in the begin- 
ning " foolishness" to it ; thinking men scoffed at 
it as impossible, that God, who is so high, should 
humble Himself so low, and that One who died a 
malefactor's death should be worshipped on the very 



XV.] 



THE DIVINE ATTRIBUTES. 



331 



instrument of His execution. Voluntary humilia- 
tion they did not understand then, nor do they now. 
They do not indeed express their repugnance to the 
doctrine so openly now, because what is called pub- 
lic opinion does not allow them ; but you see what 
they really think of Christ, by the tone which they 
adopt towards those who in their measure follow 
Him. Those who are partakers of His fulness, are 
called on, as the gift is given them, whether by His 
ordinary suggestions or by particular inspiration, to 
imitate His pattern ; they are carried on to the 
sacrifice of self, and thus they come into collision 
with the world. A voluntary or gratuitous mortifi- 
cation, in whatever shape it comes, voluntary chas- 
tity, voluntary poverty, voluntary obedience, vows of 
perfection, all this is the very point of contest be- 
tween the world and the Church, the world hating 
it, and the Church counselling it. "Why cannot 
they stop with me," says the world ; " why will they 
give up their station or position, when it is certain 
they might be saved where they are? Here is a 
lady of birth ; she might be useful at home, she 
might marry well, she might be an ornament to 
society, she might give her countenance to religious 
objects, and she has perversely left us all ; she has 
cut off her hair, and put on a coarse garment, and 
is washing the feet of the poor. There is a man of 
name and ability, who has thrown himself out of his 
sphere of influence, and he lives in a small room, in 
a place where no one knows who he is ; and he is 



332 



THE INFINITUDE OF 



[Disc. 



teaching little children their catechism." The world 
is touched with pity, and shame, and indignation at 
the sight, and moralizes over persons who act so un- 
worthily of their birth or education, and are so 
cruel towards themselves. And worse still, here is 
a Saint, and what must he do but practise eccen- 
tricities, — as they would be in others, though in him 
they are but the necessary antagonists to the tempta- 
tions which otherwise would come on him from " the 
greatness of the revelations," or are but tokens of 
the love with which he embraces the feet of his Re- 
deemer 1 And here again is another, and she sub- 
mits her flesh to penances shocking to think of, and 
wearies herself out in the search after misery, and 
all from some notion that she is assimilating her 
condition to the voluntary self-abasement of the 
Word. Alas, for the world ! which is simply for- 
getful that God is great in all He does, and that He 
makes Saints and holy men in their degree par- 
takers of His greatness. 

Here too is another instance in point. If there 
is one divine attribute rather than another, which 
forces itself upon the mind from the contemplation 
of the material world, it is the glory, harmony, and 
beauty of its Creator. This lies on the surface of 
the world, like light on a countenance, and ad- 
dresses itself to all. To few men indeed is it given 
to penetrate into the world's system and order so 
deeply as to perceive the wonderful skill and good- 
ness of the Divine artificer, and even that order itself 



XV.] 



THE DIVINE ATTRIBUTES. 



333 



which an investigation brings to view is admirable 
for its beauty ; but the grace and excellence which 
beams from the very face of the visible creation 
is cognizable by all, rich and poor, learned and igno- 
rant. It is indeed so beautiful, that those same 
philosophers, who devote themselves to its study, 
come to love it idolatrously, and to think it too 
perfect to allow of infringement or alteration, or 
to tolerate even the idea. Not looking up to the 
Infinite Creator, who could make a thousand fairer 
worlds, and who has made the fairest portion of this 
the most perishable, blooming, as it does, to-day, 
and to-morrow burning in the oven, loving, I say, 
the creature more than the Creator, they have taken 
on them in all ages to disbelieve the possibility of 
interruptions of physical order, and have denied the 
miracles of revelation. They have denied the mira- 
cles of Apostles and Prophets, on the ground of 
their marring and spoiling what is so perfect and 
harmonious, as if it were some work of human art, 
too exquisite to be wantonly dashed on the ground. 
But He, my brethren, the Eternal Maker of time 
and space, and matter and sense, as if to pour 
contempt upon the forward and minute speculations 
of His ignorant creatures about His works and His 
will, in order to a fuller and richer harmony, and a 
higher and nobler order, confuses the laws of this 
visible universe and untunes the music of the 
spheres. Nay He has done more, He has gone 
further still ; out of the infinitude of His greatness, 



334 



THE INFINITUDE OF 



[Disc. 



He has defaced His own glory, and wounded and 
deformed His own beauty, — not indeed as it is in 
itself, for He is ever the same, transcendently per- 
fect and unchangeable, but in the contemplation 
of His creatures, — by the unutterable condescension 
of His incarnation. 

Semetipsum eatinanivit, " He made Himself void 
or empty," as the earth had been "void and empty" 
at the beginning ; He seemed to be unbinding and 
letting loose the assemblage of attributes which 
made Him God, and to be destroying the idea 
which He Himself had implanted in our minds. 
The God of miracles did the most awful of signs 
and wonders, by revoking and contradicting, as it 
were, all His perfections, while He remained one 
and the same. Omnipotence became an abject ; the 
Life became a leper ; the first and only Fair came 
down to us with an " inglorious visage," and an 
" unsightly form," bleeding and (I may say) ghastly, 
lifted up in nakedness and stretched out in disloca- 
tion before the eyes of sinners. Not content with 
this, He perpetuates the memory of His humilia- 
tion ; men of this world, when they fall into trouble, 
and then recover themselves, hide the memorials of 
it. They conceal their misfortunes in prospect, as 
long as they can ; bear them perforce, when they 
fall on them ; and, when they have overcome them, 
affect to make light of them. Kings of the earth, 
when they have rid themselves of their temporary 
conquerors, and are re-instated on their thrones, put 



XV.] 



THE DIVINE ATTRIBUTES. 



335 



all things back into their former state, and remove 
from their palaces, council-rooms, and cities, whether 
statue or picture or inscription or edict, which bears 
witness to the suspension of their power. Soldiers 
indeed boast of their scars, but it is because their 
foes were well-matched with them, and their con- 
flicts necessary, and the marks of what they have 
suffered is a proof of what they have done; but He, 
who oblatus est, quia voluit, who " was offered, for 
He willed it," who exposed Himself to the powers 
of evil, yet could have saved us without, who was 
neither weak because He was overcome, nor strong 
because He overcame, proclaims to the whole world 
what He has gone through, without the tyrant's 
shame, without the soldier's pride ; — wonderful it is, 
He has raised up on high, He has planted over the 
earth, the memorial that he, whom He cast out of 
heaven in the beginning, has in the hour of darkness 
inflicted agony upon Him. For in truth by the in- 
finitude of His glory, He is more beautiful in His 
weakness than in His strength ; His wounds shine 
like stars of light ; His very Cross becomes an object 
of worship ; the instruments of His passion, the nails 
and the thorny crown, are replete with miraculous 
power. And so He bids the commemoration of His 
Bloody Sacrifice to be made day by day all over the 
earth, and He Himself attends in Person to quicken 
and sanctify it ; He rears His bitter but saving Cross 
in every Church and over every Altar ; He shows 
Himself torn and bleeding upon the wood at the 



336 



THE INFINITUDE OF 



[Disc. 



corners of each street and in every village market- 
place ; He makes it the symbol of His religion ; He 
seals our foreheads, our lips, and our breasts with this 
triumphant sign; with it He begins and ends our 
days, and with it He consigns us to the tomb. And 
when He comes again, that Sign of the Son of Man 
will be seen in heaven ; and when He takes His 
seat in judgment, the same glorious marks will be 
seen by all the world in His Hands, Feet, and Side, 
which were dug into them at the season of His 
degradation. Thus " hath King Solomon made Him- 
self a litter of the wood of Libanus. The pillars 
thereof He made of silver, the seat of gold, the 
going up of purple ; the midst He covered with 
charity for the daughters of Jerusalem. Go forth, 
ye daughters of Sion ; and see King Solomon in 
the diadem, wherewith His mother crowned Him in 
the day of His espousals, and in the day of His 
heart's joy." 

I must not conclude this train of thought, without 
alluding to a sadder subject, on which it seems to 
throw some light. There is a class of doctrines 
which to the natural man are an especial offence and 
difficulty : I mean those connected with the divine 
judgments. Why has the Almighty assigned an 
eternal punishment to the impenitent sinner? Why 
is it that vengeance has its hold on him when he 
passes out of this life, and there is no remedy ? 
Why, again, is it that even the beloved children 
of God, that holy souls who leave this life in His 



XV.] 



THE DIVINE ATTRIBUTES. 



337 



grace and in His favour, are not at once admitted 
to His face ; but, if there be an outstanding debt 
against them, first enter purgatory and exhaust it? 
Men of the world shrink from a doctrine like this 
as impossible, and religious men answer that it is a 
mystery ; and a mystery it is, that is, it is but another 
of those instances which nature and revelation bring 
before us of the divine infinitude ; it is but one 
of the many overpowering manifestations of the 
Almighty, when He acts, which remind us that He 
is infinite, and above and beyond human measure 
and understanding, — which lead us to bow the head 
and adore Him, as Moses did, when He passed by, 
and awfully with him to proclaim His Name, as 
" the Lord God, who hath dominion, keeping mercy 
for thousands, and returning the iniquity of the 
fathers upon the children and children's children 
to the third and fourth generation." 

Thus the attributes of God, though intelligible to 
us on their surface, — for from our own sense of mercy 
and holiness and patience and consistency, we have 
general notions of the All- merciful and All-holy and 
All-patient, and of what is proper to His Essence,— 
yet, for the very reason that they are infinite, tran- 
scend our comprehension, and can only be received 
by faith. They are dimly shadowed out, in this 
very respect, by the great agents which He has 
created in the material world. What is so ordinary 
and familiar with us as the elements, what so simple 
and level to us, as their presence and operation ? 

z 



338 



THE INFINITUDE OF 



[Disc. 



yet how their character changes, and how they over- 
master us, and triumph over us, when they come 
upon us in their fulness ! The invisible air, how 
gentle is it, and intimately ours ! we breathe it 
momentarily, nor could we live without it; it fans 
our cheek, and flows around us, and we move 
through it without effort, while it obediently recedes 
at every step we take, and obsequiously pursues us as 
we go forward. Yet let it come in its power, and 
that same silent fluid, which was just now the 
servant of our necessity or caprice, takes us up on 
its wings with the invisible power of an Angel, and 
carries us forth into the regions of space, and flings 
us down headlong upon the earth. Or go to 
the spring, and draw there at your pleasure, for 
your cup or your pitcher, in supply of your wants; 
you have a ready servant, a domestic ever at 
hand, in large quantity or in small, to satisfy your 
thirst, or to purify you from the dust and mire of 
the world. But go from home, reach the coast : and 
you will see that same humble element trans- 
formed before your eyes. You were equal to it in 
its condescension, but who shall gaze without asto- 
nishment at its vast expanse in the bosom of the 
ocean ? who shall hear without awe the dashing of 
its mighty billows along the beach ? who shall with- 
out terror feel it heaving unto him, and swelling 
and mounting up, and yawning wide, till he, its very 
sport and mockery, is thrown to and fro, hither and 
thither, at the mere mercy of a power which was 



XV.] 



THE DIVINE ATTRIBUTES. 



339 



just now his companion and almost his slave ? Or, 
again, approach the flame : it warms you, and it 
enlightens you ; yet approach not too near, presume 
not, or it will change its nature. That very element 
which is so beautiful to look at, so brilliant in its 
light, so graceful in its figure, so soft and lambent 
in its motion, is in its essence of a keen resistless 
kind ; it tortures, it consumes, it reduces to ashes 
that of which it was just before the illumination and 
the life. So is it with the attributes of God ; our 
knowledge of them serves us for our daily welfare ; 
they give us light and warmth and food and 
guidance and succour ; but go forth with Moses 
upon the mount and let the Lord pass by, or with 
Elias stand in the desert amid the wind, the earth- 
quake, and the fire, and all is mystery and darkness ; 
all is but a whirling of the reason, and a dazzling 
of the imagination, and an overwhelming of the 
feelings, reminding us that we are but mortal men 
and He is God, and that the outlines which nature 
draws for us are not His perfect image, nor incon- 
sistent with the lights and depths with which it is 
invested by revelation. 

Say not, my brethren, that these thoughts are too 
austere for this season, when we contemplate the 
self-consuming, self-sacrificing charity wherewith 
God our Saviour has visited us. It is for that very 
reason that I dwell on them ; the higher He is, and 
the more mysterious, so much the more glorious and 
the more subduing is the history of His humiliation. 

z 2 



340 



THE INFINITUDE OF 



Disc. 



I own it. my brethren. I love to dwell on Him as 
the Only-begotten Word ; nor is it any forgetfulness 
of His sacred humanity to contemplate His eternal 
Person. It is the very idea, that He is God. which 
gives a meaning to His sufferings ; what is to me a 
man. and nothing more, in agony or scourged or 
crucified ? there are many holy martyrs, and their 
torments were terrible. But here I see One drop- 
ping blood, gashed by the thong, and stretched upon 
the Cross, and He is God. It is no tale of human 
woe which I am reading here ; it is the record of 
the passion of the great Creator. The Word and 
Wisdom of the Father, who dwelt in His bosom in 
bliss ineffable from all eternity, whose very smile has 
shed radiance and grace over the whole creation, 
whose traces I see in the starry heavens and on the 
green earth, this glorious living God. it is He who 
looks at me so piteously. so tenderly from the Cross. 
He seems to say. — I cannot move, though I am 
omnipotent, for sin has bound Me here. I had 
had it in mind to come on earth anion a' innocent 
creatures, the fairest and loveliest of them all. with 
a face more radiant than the Seraphim, and a form 
as royal as the Archangel's, to be their equal yet 
their God. to fill them with My grace, to receive 
their worship, to enjoy their company, and to prepare 
them for the heaven to which I destined them ; 
but. before I carried My purpose into effect, they 
sinned, and lost their inheritance, and so I come 
indeed, but come, not in that brightness in which I 



XV.] 



THE DIVINE ATTRIBUTES. 



341 



went forth to create the morning stars and to fill 
the sons of God with melody, but in deformity and 
in shame, in sighs and tears, with blood upon My 
cheek, and with My limbs bare and rent. Gaze on 
Me, O My children, if you will, for I am helpless ; 
gaze on your Maker, whether in contempt, or in 
faith and love. Here I wait, upon the Cross, the 
appointed time, the time of grace and mercy ; here 
I wait till the end of the world, silent and motion- 
less, for the conversion of the sinful and the con- 
solation of the just ; here I remain in weakness 
and shame, though I am so great in heaven, patiently 
expecting My full catalogue of souls, who, when 
time is at length over, shall be the reward of My 
passion and the triumph of My grace to all 
eternity. 



DISCOURSE XVI 



MENTAL SUFFERINGS OF OUR LORD IN HIS PASSION. 



Every passage in the history of our Lord and 
Saviour is of unfathomable depth, and affords inex- 
haustible matter of contemplation. All that con- 
cerns Him is infinite, and what we first discern is 
but the surface of that which begins and ends in 
eternity. It would be presumptuous for any one 
short of Saints and Doctors to attempt to comment 
on His words and deeds, except in the way of medi- 
tation ; but meditation and mental prayer are so much 
a duty in all who wish to cherish true faith and love 
towards Him, that it may be allowed us, my brethren, 
under the guidance of holy men who have gone be- 
fore us, to dwell and enlarge upon what otherwise 
would more fitly be adored than scrutinized. And 
certain times of the year, this especially \ call upon 
us to consider, as closely and as minutely as we can, 

1 Passion-tide. 



MENTAL SUFFERINGS OF OUR LORD, &c. 



343 



even the more sacred portions of the Gospel history. 
I would rather be thought feeble or officious in my 
treatment of them, than wanting to the season ; and 
so I now proceed, because the religious usage of the 
Church requires it, and though any individual preacher 
may well shrink from it, to direct your thoughts to a 
subject, especially suitable now, and about which 
many of us perhaps think very little, the suffer- 
ings which our Lord endured in His innocent and 
sinless soul. 

You know, my brethren, that our Lord and 
Saviour, though He was God, was also perfect man ; 
and hence He had, not only a body, but a soul like- 
wise, such as ours, though pure from all stain of eviL 
He did not take a body without a soul, God forbid ! 
for that would not have been to become man. How 
would He have sanctified our nature if He had taken 
a nature which was not ours ? Man without a soul 
is on a level with the beasts of the field ; but our 
Lord came to save a race capable of praising and 
obeying Him, possessed of immortality, yet dispos- 
sessed of their hope of an immortality of bliss. Man 
was created in the image of God, and that image is 
in his soul ; when then his Maker, by an unspeak- 
able condescension, came in his nature, He took on 
Himself a soul in order to take on Him a body ; He 
took on Him a soul as the means of His union with 
a body ; He took on Him in the first place the soul, 
then the body of man, both at once, but in this 
order, the soul and the body ; He Himself created the 



344 



MENTAL SUFFERINGS OF 



[Disc. 



soul which He took on Himself, He took His body 
from the flesh of the Blessed Virgin, His Mother ; thus 
He became perfect man with body and soul, and, as 
He took on Him a body of flesh and nerves, which 
admitted of wounds and death, and had the organs of 
sensation, so did He take a soul too which could 
receive those sensations and could feel those wounds, 
and which, besides these bodily sufferings was capa- 
ble of the pain and sorrow which are proper to a 
human soul ; and, as His atoning passion was under- 
gone in the body, so was it undergone in the soul also. 

As the solemn days proceed, we shall be especially 
called on, my brethren, to consider His sufferings in 
the body, His seizure, His forced journeyings to and 
fro, His blows and wounds, His scourging, the crown 
of thorns, the nails, the Cross. They are all summed 
up in the Crucifix itself, as it meets our eyes ; they 
are represented all at once on His sacred flesh, as it 
hangs up before us, — and meditation is made easy by 
the spectacle. It is otherwise with the sufferings of 
His soul, they cannot be painted for us, nor can 
they even be duly investigated ; they are beyond 
both sense and thought; and yet they anticipated 
His bodily sufferings. The agony, a pain of the 
soul, not of the body, was the first act of His tre- 
mendous sacrifice ; " My soul is sorrowful even unto 
death," He said ; nay, if He suffered in the body, it 
really was in the soul, for the body did but convey 
the infliction on to that which was the true recipient 
and seat of the anguish. 



XVI.] 



OUR LORD IN HIS PASSION. 



345 



This it is very much to the purpose to insist 
upon ; I say, it was not the body that suffered, 
but the soul in the body ; it was the soul and 
not the body which was the seat of the suffer- 
ing of the Eternal Word. Consider, then, there 
is no real pain, though there may be apparent 
suffering, when there is no kind of inward sen- 
sibility or spirit to be the seat of it. A tree, for 
instance, has life, organs, growth, and decay; it 
may be wounded and injured ; it droops, and is 
killed; but it does not suffer, because it has no 
mind or sensible principle within it. But wherever 
this gift of an immaterial principle is found, there 
pain is possible, and greater pain according to the 
quality of the gift. Had we no spirit of any kind, 
we should feel as little as a tree feels; had we no 
soul, we should not feel pain more acutely than a 
brute feels it ; but, being men, we feel pain in a way 
in which none but those who have souls can feel it. 

Living beings, I say, feel more or less according 
to the spirit which is in them ; brutes feel far less 
than man, because they cannot think of what they 
feel ; they have no advertence or direct consciousness 
of their sufferings. This it is that makes pain so 
trying, viz. that we cannot help thinking of it, while 
we suffer it. It is before us, it possesses the mind, 
it keeps our thoughts fixed upon it. Whatever draws 
the mind off the thought of it lessens it ; hence 
friends try to amuse us when we are in pain, for 
amusement is a diversion. If the pain is slight, 



346 



MENTAL SUFFERINGS OF 



[Disc. 



they sometimes succeed with us ; and then we are, 
so to say, without pain, even while we suffer. And 
hence it continualiy happens that in violent exercise 
or labour, men meet with blows or cuts, so consider- 
able and so durable in their effects, as to bear wit- 
ness to the suffering which must have attended 
their infliction, of which nevertheless they recollect 
nothing. And in quarrels and in battles wounds 
are received, which, from the excitement of the 
moment, are brought home to the consciousness of 
the combatant, not by the pain at the time of receiv- 
ing them, but by the loss of blood that follows. 

I will show you presently, my brethren, how I 
mean to apply what I have said to the consideration 
of our Lord's sufferings ; first I will make another 
remark. Consider then, that hardly any one stroke 
of pain is intolerable ; it is intolerable when it con- 
tinues. You cry out perhaps that you cannot bear 
more; patients feel as if they could stop the sur- 
geon's hand, simply because he continues to pain 
them. Their feeling is that they have borne as 
much as they can bear; as if the continuance and 
not the intenseness was what made it too much for 
them. What does this mean, but that the memory 
of the foregoing moments of pain acts upon and 
(as it were) edges the pain that succeeds ? If the 
third or fourth or twentieth moment of pain could 
be taken by itself, if the succession of the moments 
that preceded it could be forgotten, it would be no 
more than the first moment, as bearable as the first ; 



XVI.] 



OUR LORD IN HIS PASSION. 



347 



but what makes it unbearable is, that it is the twen- 
tieth ; that the first, the second, the third, on to the 
nineteenth moment of pain, are all concentrated in 
the twentieth ; so that every additional moment of 
pain has all the weight, the ever-increasing weight, 
of all that have preceded it. Hence, I repeat, it is 
that brute animals would seem to feel so little pain, 
because, that is, they have not the power of reflec- 
tion or of consciousness. They do not know they 
exist ; they do not contemplate themselves, they do 
not look backwards or forwards; every moment as 
it succeeds, is their all ; they wander over the face 
of the earth, and see this thing and that, and feel 
pleasure and pain, but still they take every thing as 
it comes, and then let it go again, as men do in 
dreams. They have memory, but not the memory of 
an intellectual being ; they put together nothing, they 
make nothing one and individual to themselves out of 
the particular sensations which they receive ; nothing 
is to them a reality or has a substance beyond those 
sensations; they are but sensible of a number of 
successive impressions. And hence, as their other 
feelings, so their feeling of pain is but faint and 
dull, in spite of their outward manifestations of it. 
It is the intellectual comprehension of pain, as a 
whole diffused through successive moments, which 
gives it its special power and keenness, and it is the 
soul only, which a brute has not, which is capable of 
that comprehension. 

Now apply this to the sufferings of our Lord : — 



348 



MENTAL SUFFERINGS OF 



[Disc. 



do you recollect their offering Him wine mingled 
with myrrh, when He was on the point of being 
crucified ? He would not drink of it ; why ? because 
such a potion would have stupified His mind, and 
He was bent on bearing the pain in all its bitter- 
ness. You see from this, my brethren, the character 
of His sufferings ; He would have fain escaped them, 
had that been His Father's will ; " If it be possible," 
He said, " let this chalice pass from Me ;" but since 
it was not, He says calmly and decidedly to the 
Apostle, who would have rescued Him from suffer- 
ing, " The chalice which my Father hath given Me, 
shall I not drink it ? " If He was to suffer, He gave 
Himself to suffering ; He did not come to suffer as 
little as He could ; He did not turn away His face 
from the suffering ; He confronted it, or, as I may 
say, He breasted it, that every particular portion of 
it might make its due impression on Him. And as 
men are superior to brute animals, and are affected 
by pain more than they, by reason of the mind 
within them, which gives a substance to pain, such 
as it cannot have in the instance of brutes; so, in 
like manner, our Lord felt pain of the body, with 
an advertence and a consciousness, and therefore 
with a keenness and intensity, and with a unity of 
perception, which none of us can possibly fathom or 
compass, because His soul was so absolutely in His 
own power, so simply free from the influence of dis- 
tractions, so fully directed upon the pain, so utterly 
surrendered, so simply subjected to the suffering. 



XVI.] 



OUR LORD IN MIS PASSION. 



349 



And thus He may truly be said to have suffered 
the whole of His passion in every moment of it. 

Recollect that our Blessed Lord was in this 
respect different from us, that, though He was per- 
fect man, yet there was a power in Him greater 
than His soul, which ruled His soul, for He was 
God. The soul of other men is subjected to the 
wishes, feelings, impulses, passions, perturbations of 
itself ; His soul was subjected simply to His Eternal 
and Divine Person. Nothing happened to His soul 
by chance, or on a sudden ; He never was taken by 
surprise ; nothing affected Him without His willing 
beforehand that it should affect Him. Never did 
He sorrow, or fear, or desire, or rejoice in spirit, but 
He first willed to be sorrowful, or afraid, or desirous, 
or joyful. When we suffer, it is because outward 
agents and the incontrollable emotions of our minds 
bring suffering upon us. We are brought under 
the discipline of pain involuntarily, we suffer more 
or less acutely according to accidental circumstances, 
we find our patience more or less tried by it accord- 
ing to our state of mind, and we do our best to 
provide alleviations or remedies of it. We cannot 
anticipate beforehand how much of it will come 
upon us, or how far we shall be able to sustain it ; 
nor can we say afterwards why we have felt, just 
what we have felt, or why we did not bear the 
suffering better. It was otherwise with our Lord. 
His Divine Person was not subject, could not be 
exposed, to the influence of His own human affec- 



350 



MENTAL SUFFERINGS OF 



[Disc. 



tions and feelings, except so far as He chose. I 
repeat, when He chose to fear, He feared ; when 
He chose to be angry, He was angry; when He 
chose to grieve, He grieved. He was not open to 
impulse, but He opened upon Himself voluntarily 
the influence by which He was impelled. Conse- 
quently, when He determined to suffer the pain of 
His vicarious passion, whatever He did, He did, as 
the Wise Man says, instanter, " earnestly," with His 
might ; He did not do it by halves ; He did not 
turn away His mind from the suffering, as we do : — 
(how should He, who came to suffer, who could not 
have suffered but of His own act ?) no, He did not 
say and unsay, do and undo ; He said and He did ; 
He said, " Lo, I come to do Thy will, O God ; sacri- 
fice and offering Thou wouldest not, but a body hast 
Thou fitted to Me." He took a body in order 
that He might suffer ; He became man, that He 
might suffer as man ; and when His hour came, that 
hour of Satan and of darkness, the hour when sin 
was to pour its full malignity upon Him, it followed 
that He offered Himself wholly, a holocaust, a whole 
burnt-offering ; — as the whole of His body stretched 
out upon the Cross, so the whole of His soul, His 
whole advertence, His whole consciousness, a mind 
awake, a sense acute, a living co-operation, a present, 
absolute intention, not a virtual permission, not a 
heartless submission, this did He present to His tor- 
mentors. His passion was an action ; He lived most 
energetically, while He lay languishing, fainting, and 



XVI.] 



OUR LORD IN HIS PASSION. 



351 



dying. Nor did He die, except by an act of the 
will ; for He bowed His head, in command as well as 
in resignation, and said, " Father, into Thy hands I 
commend My Spirit ;" He gave the word, He sur- 
rendered His soul, He did not lose it. 

Thus you see, my brethren, had our Lord only 
suffered in the body, and in it not so much as other 
men, still as regards the pain, He would have really 
suffered indefinitely more, because pain is mea- 
sured by the power of realizing it. God was the 
sufferer ; God suffered in His human nature ; the 
sufferings belonged to God, and were drank up, were 
drained out to the bottom of the chalice, because 
God drank them ; not tasted, sipped, flavoured, dis- 
guised by human medicaments, as man disposes of 
the cup of anguish. And what I have now said will 
further serve to answer an objection, which I shall 
proceed to notice, and which perhaps is latently in 
the minds of many, and leads them to overlook the 
part which our Lord's soul had in His gracious 
satisfaction. 

Our Lord said, when His agony was commencing, 
" My soul is sorrowful unto death ;" now you may 
ask, my brethren, whether He had not certain con- 
solations, peculiar to Himself, impossible in any other, 
which diminished or impeded the distress of His 
soul, and caused Him to feel, not more, but less than 
an ordinary man. For instance, He had a sense of 
innocence which, except His blessed Mother, no 
other sufferer could have: even His persecutors, 



352 



MENTAL SUFFERINGS OF 



[Disc. 



even the false apostle who betrayed Hirn, the judge 
who sentenced Him, and the soldiers who conducted 
the execution, testified His innocence. " I have con- 
demned the innocent blood," said Judas ; " I am 
clear from the blood of this just Person," said Pilate ; 
" Truly this was a just Man," cried the centurion. 
And if even they, sinners, bore witness to His sin- 
lessness, how much more did His own soul ! and we 
know well that even in our own case, sinners as we 
are, on the consciousness of innocence or of guilt 
mainly turns our power of enduring opposition and 
calumny ; how much more, you will say, in the case 
of our Lord, did the sense of inward sanctity com- 
pensate for the suffering and annihilate the shame ! 
Again, you may say, that He knew that His 
sufferings would be short, and that their issue would 
be joyful, whereas uncertainty of the future is the 
keenest element of distress ; but He could not have 
anxiety, for He was not in suspense, nor despondency 
or despair, for He never was deserted. And in con- 
firmation you may refer to St. Paul, who expressly 
tells us, that " for the joy set before Him," our Lord 
" despised the shame." And certainly there is a 
marvellous calm and self-possession in all He does : 
consider His warning to the Apostles, " Watch and 
pray, lest ye enter into temptation ; the spirit indeed 
is willing, but the flesh is weak;" or His words to 
Judas, " Friend, wherefore art thou come ? " and 
" Judas, betrayest thou the Son of Man with a kiss ? " 
or to Peter, " All that take the sword, shall perish 



XVI.] 



OUR LORD IN HIS PASSION. 



353 



with the sword ;" or to the man who struck Him, 
" If I have spoken evil, bear witness of the evil ; but 
if well, why smitest thou Me ? " or to His Mother, 
" Woman, behold thy Son." 

All this is true and much to be insisted on ; but it 
quite agrees with, or rather illustrates, what I have 
been saying. My brethren, you have only said, (to 
use a human phrase,) that He was always Himself. 
His mind was its own centre, and was never in the 
slightest degree thrown off its heavenly and most 
perfect balance. What He suffered, He suffered 
because He put Himself under suffering, and that 
deliberately and calmly. As He said to the leper, 
" I will, be thou clean ;" and to the paralytic, " Thy 
sins be forgiven thee ;" and to the centurion, " I 
will come and heal him ;" and of Lazarus, " I go to 
wake him out of sleep ;" so He said, " Now I will 
begin to suffer," and He did begin. His composure 
is but the proof how entirely He governed His own 
mind. He drew back, at the proper moment, the 
bolts and fastenings, and opened the gates, and 
the floods fell right upon His soul in all their 
fulness. This is what St. Mark tells us of Him ; 
and he is said to have written it from the very 
mouth of St. Peter, who was one of three witnesses 
present at the time. " They came," he says, " to the 
place which is called Gethsemani ; and He saith to 
His disciples, Sit you here, while I pray. And He 
taketh with Him Peter and James and John, and He 
began to be frightened and to be very heavy." You 

a a 



354 



MENTAL SUFFERINGS OF 



[Disc. 



see how deliberately He acts ; He comes to a certain 
spot ; and then, giving the word of command, and 
withdrawing the support of the Godhead from His 
soul, distress, terror, and dejection at once rush in 
upon it. Thus He walks forth into a mental agony 
with as definite an action as if it were some bodily 
torture, the fire or the wheel. 

This being the case, you will see at once, my 
brethren, that it is nothing to the purpose to say 
that He would be supported under His trial by the 
consciousness of innocence and the anticipation of 
triumph ; for His trial consisted in the withdrawal, as 
of other causes of consolation, so of that very con- 
sciousness and anticipation. The same act of the 
will which admitted the influence upon His soul of 
any distress at all, admitted all distresses at once. 
It was not the contest between antagonist impulses 
and views, coming from without, but the operation 
of an inward resolution. As men of self-command 
can turn from one thought to another at their will, 
so, much more, did He deliberately deny Himself the 
comfort, and satiate Himself with the woe. In 
that moment His soul thought not of the future, He 
thought only of the present burden which was 
upon Him, and which He had come upon earth to 
sustain. 

And now, my brethren, what was it He had to 
bear, when He thus opened upon His soul the 
torrent of this predestinated pain ? Alas ! He had 
to bear what is well known to us, what is familiar to 



XVI.] 



OUR LORD IN HIS PASSION. 



855 



us, but what to Him was woe unutterable. He had 
to bear, that which is so easy a thing to us, so 
natural, so welcome, that we cannot conceive of it as 
of a great endurance, but which to Him had the 
scent and the poison of death ; — He had, my dear 
brethren, to bear the weight of sin ; He had to bear 
your sins ; He had to bear the sins of the whole 
world. Sin is an easy thing to us ; we think little 
of it ; we do not understand how the Creator can 
think much of it ; we cannot bring our imagination 
to believe that it deserves retribution, and, when 
even in this world punishments follow upon it, we 
explain them away or turn our minds from them. 
But consider what it is in itself ; it is rebellion 
against God ; it is a traitor's act who aims at the 
overthrow and death of his sovereign ; it is that, 
if I may use a strong expression, which, could the 
Divine Governor of the world cease to be, would be 
sufficient to bring it about. It is the mortal enemy 
of the All-holy, so that He and it cannot be to- 
gether ; and as the All-holy drives it from His 
presence into the outer darkness, so, if God could be 
less than God, it would have power to make Him 
so. And here observe, my brethren, that when 
once Almighty Charity by taking flesh, entered this 
created system, and submitted Itself to its laws, then 
forthwith this antagonist of good and truth, taking 
advantage of the opportunity, flew upon that flesh, 
and fixed on it, and was its death. The envy of the 
Pharisees, the treachery of Judas, and the madness of 
A a 2 



356 



MENTAL SUFFERINGS OF 



[Disc. 



the people were but the instrument or the expression 
of the enmity which sin felt towards Eternal Purity, 
as soon as, in infinite mercy towards men, He put 
Himself within its reach. Sin could not touch His 
Divine Majesty ; but it could assail Him in that 
way in which He allowed Himself to be assailed, 
through the medium of His humanity. And in the 
issue, in the death of God incarnate, you are but 
taught, my brethren, what sin is in itself, and what 
was then coming, in its hour and in its strength, upon 
His human nature, when He allowed that nature to 
be so filled with horror and dismay at the antici- 
pation. 

There, then, in that most awful hour, knelt the 
Saviour of the world, putting off the defences of His 
divinity, dismissing His reluctant Angels, who in 
myriads were ready at His call, and opening His 
arms, baring His breast, sinless as He was, to the 
assault of His foe, — of a foe whose breath was a 
pestilence, and whose embrace was an agony. There 
He knelt, motionless and still, while the vile and 
horrible fiend clad His spirit in a robe steeped in all 
that is hateful and heinous in human crime, which 
clung close round His heart, and filled His con- 
science, and found its way into every sense and pore 
of His mind, and spread over Him a moral leprosy, 
till He almost felt Himself that which He never 
could be, and which His foe would fain have made 
Him. O the horror, when He looked, and did not 
know Himself, and felt as a foul and loathsome 



XVI.] 



OUR LORD IN HIS PASSION. 



357 



sinner, from His vivid perception of that mass of cor- 
ruption which poured over His head and ran down 
even to the skirts of His garments ! O the distraction, 
when He found His eyes, and hands, and feet, and 
lips, and heart, as if the members of the evil one, 
and not of God ! Are these the hands of the imma- 
culate Lamb of God, once innocent, but now red 
with ten thousand barbarous deeds of blood ? are 
these His lips, not uttering prayer, and praise, and 
holy blessings, but defiled with oaths, and blasphemies, 
and doctrines of devils ? or His eyes, profaned as they 
are by all the evil visions and idolatrous fascinations 
for which men have abandoned their Adorable 
Creator ? And His ears, they ring with sounds of 
revelry and of strife ; and His heart is frozen with 
avarice, and cruelty, and unbelief ; and His very me- 
mory is laden with every sin which has been com- 
mitted since the fall, in all regions of the earth, with 
the pride of the old giants, and the lusts of the five 
cities, and the obduracy of Egypt, and the ambition 
of Babel, and the unthankfulness and scorn of Israel. 
O who does not know the misery of a haunting 
thought which comes again and again, in spite of 
rejection, to annoy, if it cannot seduce? or of some 
odious and sickening imagination, in no sense one's 
own, but forced upon the mind from without? or of 
evil knowledge, gained with or without a man's 
fault, but which he would give a great price to be 
rid of for ever? And these gather around Thee, 
Blessed Lord, in millions now ; they come in troops 



358 



MENTAL SUFFERINGS OF 



[Disc. 



more numerous than the locust or the palmer-worm, 
or the plagues of hail, and flies, and frogs, which 
were sent against Pharaoh. Of the living and of the 
dead and of the unborn, of the lost and of the saved, 
of Thy people and of strangers, of sinners and of 
Saints, all sins are there. Thy dearest are there, 
Thy Saints and Thy chosen are upon Thee ; Thy 
three Apostles, Peter, James, and John, but not as 
comforters, but as accusers, like the friends of Job, 
" sprinkling dust towards heaven," and heaping 
curses on Thy head. All are there but one ; one 
only is not there, one only ; for she had no part in 
sin, she only could console Thee, and therefore is 
not nigh. She will be near Thee on the Cross, she 
is separated from Thee in the garden. She has 
been Thy companion and Thy confidant through Thy 
life, she interchanged with Thee the pure thoughts 
and holy meditations of thirty years ; but her virgin 
ear may not take in, nor may her immaculate heart 
conceive, what now is in vision before Thee. None 
was equal to the weight but God ; sometimes before 
Thy Saints Thou hast brought the image of a single 
sin, as it appears in the light of Thy countenance, a 
venial sin, perhaps, and not a mortal ; and they have 
told us that the sight did all but kill them, nay, would 
have killed them, had it not been instantly withdrawn. 
The Mother of God, for all her sanctity, nay by rea- 
son of it, could not have borne one company of that 
innumerable progeny of Satan which compass Thee 
about. It is the long history of a world, and God 



XVI.] 



OUR LORD IN HIS PASSION. 



359 



alone can bear the load of it. Hopes blighted, vows 
broken, lights quenched, warnings scorned, opportuni- 
ties lost ; the innocent betra) 7 ed, the young hardened, 
the penitent relapsing, the just overcome, the aged 
failing ; the sophistry of misbelief, the wilfulness of 
passion, the tyranny of habit, the canker of remorse, 
the wasting of care, the anguish of shame, the pining 
of disappointment, the sickness of despair; such 
cruel, such pitiable spectacles, such heartrending, 
revolting, detestable, maddening scenes ; nay, the 
haggard faces, the convulsed lips, the flushed cheek, 
the dark brow of the willing victims of rebellion, 
they are all before Him now ; they are upon Him 
and in Him. They are with Him instead of that 
ineffable peace which has inhabited His soul since 
the moment of His conception. They are upon 
Him, they are all but His own; He cries to His 
Father as if He were the criminal, not the victim ; 
His agony takes the form of guilt and compunction. 
He is doing penance, He is making confession, He 
is exercising contrition with a reality and a virtue 
infinitely greater than that of all Saints and peni- 
tents together ; for He is the One Victim for us 
all, the sole Satisfaction, the real Penitent, all but 
the real sinner. 

He rises languidly from earth, and turns around 
to meet the traitor and his band, now r quickly near- 
ing the deep shade. He turns, and lo ! there is 
blood upon His garment and in His footprints. 
Whence come these first-fruits of the passion of 



360 



MENTAL SUFFERINGS OF 



[Disc. 



the Lamb ? no soldier's scourge has touched His 
shoulders, nor the hangman's nails His hands and 
feet. My brethren, He has bled before His time ; 
He has shed blood, and it is His agonizing soul 
which has broken up His bodily frame and sent it 
forth. His passion has begun from within. That 
tormented Heart, the seat of tenderness and love, 
began at length to labour and to beat with vehemence 
beyond its nature ; " the fountains of the great deep 
were broken up the red streams poured forth so 
copious and fierce as to overflow the veins, and, 
bursting through the pores, they stood in a thick 
dew over His whole skin ; then, forming into drops, 
they rolled down full and heavy, and drenched the 
ground. 

" My soul is sorrowful even unto death," He said. 
It has been said of that dreadful pestilence which 
now is upon us, that it begins in death ; by which is 
meant that it has no stages or crisis, that hope is 
over when it comes, and that what looks like its 
course is but the death agony and the process of 
dissolution. And thus our Atoning Sacrifice, in a 
much higher sense, began with this passion of woe, 
and only did not die, because at His omnipotent 
will His Heart did not break, nor Soul separate 
from Body, till He had suffered on the Cross. 

No, He has not yet exhausted that full chalice, 
from which at first His natural infirmity shrank. 
The seizure, and the arraignment, and the buffeting, 
and the prison, and the trial, and the mocking, and 



XVI.] 



OUR LORD IN HIS PASSION. 



361 



the passing to and fro, and the scourging, and the 
crown of thorns, and the slow march to Calvary, and 
the crucifixion, these are all to come. A night and 
a day, hour after hour, is slowly to run out, before 
the end comes, and the Satisfaction is completed. 

And then, when the appointed moment arrived, 
and He gave the word, as His passion had begun 
with His soul, with the soul did it end. He did 
not die of bodily exhaustion, or of bodily pain ; His 
tormented Heart broke, and He commended His 
Spirit to the Father. 



"O Heart of Jesus, all Love, I offer Thee these 
humble prayers for myself and for all those, who 
unite themselves with me in spirit to adore Thee. 
O holiest Heart of Jesus most lovely, I intend to 
renew and to offer to Thee these acts of adoration 
and these prayers, for me a wretched sinner, and 
for all those who are associated in Thy adoration, 
through all moments while I breathe even to the 
end of my life. I recommend to Thee, O my Jesus, 
Holy Church, Thy dear spouse, and our true Mo- 
ther, the souls which practise justice, and all poor 
sinners, the afflicted, the dying, and all men. Let 
not Thy Blood be shed for them in vain. Finally, 
deign to apply it in relief of the souls in Purgatory, 
those in particular, who have practised in the course 
of their life this holy devotion of adoring Thee." 



DISCOURSE XYII 



THE GLORIES OF MARY FOR THE SAKE OF HER SON. 



We know, my brethren, that in the natural world 
nothing is superfluous, nothing incomplete, nothing 
independent; but part answers to part, and all de- 
tails combine to form one mighty whole. Order 
and harmony are among the first perfections which 
we discern in this visible creation ; and the more 
we examine into it, the more widely and minutely 
they are found to belong to it. " All things are 
double," says the Wise Man, " one against another ; 
and He hath made nothing defective." It is the 
very character and definition of " the heavens and 
the earth," as contrasted with the void or chaos 
which preceded them, that every thing is now sub- 
jected to fixed laws; and every motion, and influ- 
ence, and effect can be accounted for, and, were our 
knowledge sufficient, could be anticipated. More- 
over, it is plain, on the other hand, that it is only in 



THE GLORIES OF MARY, &c. 



363 



proportion to our observation and our research that 
this truth becomes apparent; for though a number 
of things even at first sight are seen to proceed ac- 
cording to an established and beautiful order, yet in 
other instances the law to which they are conformed 
is with difficulty discovered; and the words " chance," 
and " hazard," and " fortune," have come into use as 
expressions of our ignorance. Accordingly you may 
fancy rash and irreligious minds, who are engaged 
day after day in the business of the world, suddenly 
looking out into the heavens or upon the earth, and 
criticising the great Architect, arguing that there 
were creatures rude or defective in their constitu- 
tion, and asking questions which did but evidence 
their want of scientific education. 

The case is the same as regards the supernatural 
world. The great truths of revelation are all con- 
nected together and from a whole. Every one can 
see this in a measure even at a glance, but to under- 
stand the full consistency and harmony of Catholic 
teaching requires study and meditation. Hence, as 
philosophers of this world bury themselves in mu- 
seums and laboratories, descend into mines, or wan- 
der among woods or on the sea-shore, so the in- 
quirer into heavenly truths dwells in the cell and 
the oratory, pouring forth his heart in prayer, col- 
lecting his thoughts in meditation, dwelling on the 
idea of Jesus, or of Mary, or of grace, or of eternity, 
and pondering the words of holy men who have 
gone before him, till before his mental sight arises 



364 



THE GLORIES OF MARY 



[Disc. 



the hidden wisdom of the perfect, " which God pre- 
destined before the world unto our glory," and 
which He " reveals unto them by His Spirit." And, 
as ignorant men may dispute the beauty and per- 
fection of the visible creation, so men, who for six 
days in the week are absorbed in worldly toil, who 
live for wealth, or station, or self-indulgence, or pro- 
fane knowledge, and do but give their leisure mo- 
ments to the thought of religion, never raising their 
hearts to God, never asking for His enlightening 
grace, never chastening their hearts and bodies, 
never steadily contemplating the objects of faith, 
but judging hastily and peremptorily according to 
their private views or the humour of the hour ; such 
men, I say, in like manner, may easily, or will for 
certain, be surprised and shocked at portions of 
revealed truth, as if strange, or harsh, or extreme, 
or inconsistent, and will in whole or in part re- 
ject it. 

I am going to apply this remark to the subject of 
the prerogatives with which the Church invests the 
Blessed Mother of God. They are startling and 
difficult to those whose imagination is not accus- 
tomed to them, and whose reason has not reflected on 
them ; but the more carefully and religiously they 
are dwelt on, the more, I am sure, will they be 
found essential to the Catholic faith, and integral 
to the worship of Christ. This simply is the point 
which I shall insist on, disputable indeed by aliens 
to the Church, but most clear to her children, that 



XVII] 



FOR THE SAKE OF HER SON. 



365 



the glories of Mary are for the sake of Jesus ; and 
that we praise and bless her as the first of creatures, 
that we may duly confess Him as our sole Creator. 

When the Eternal Word decreed to come on 
earth, He did not purpose, He did not work, by 
halves ; but He came to be a man like any of us, 
to take a human soul and body, and to make them 
His own. He did not come in a mere apparent or 
accidental form, as Angels appear to men ; nor did 
He merely overshadow an existing man, as He 
overshadowed His saints, and call Him by the Name 
of God ; but He " was made flesh," He attached 
to Himself a manhood, and became as really and 
truly man as He was God, so that henceforth 
He was both God and man, or, in other words, He 
was one Person in two natures, divine and human. 
This is a mystery so marvellous, so difficult, that 
faith alone firmly receives it ; the natural man may 
receive it for a while, may think he receives it, but 
never really receives it ; begins, directly he has pro- 
fessed it, secretly to rebel against it, evades it, or 
revolts from it. This he has done from the first ; 
even in the lifetime of the beloved disciple men 
arose, who said that our Lord had no body at all, 
or a body framed in the heavens, or that He did not 
suffer, but another in His stead, or that He visited 
and left again the human form which was born and 
which suffered, at its baptism and before its cruci- 
fixion, or that He was a mere man. That " in the 
beginning was the Word, and the Word was with 



366 



THE GLORIES OF MARY 



Disc. 



God , and the Word was God, and the Word was 
made flesh and dwelt among us," was too hard a 
thing for the unregenerate reason. 

The case is the same at this day ; few Protestants 
have any real perception of the doctrine of God and 
man in one Person. They speak in a dreamy sha- 
dowy way of Christ's divinity : but, when their 
meaning is sifted, you will find them very slow to 
commit themselves to any statement sufficient to 
show that it is Catholic. They will tell you at once, 
that the subject is not to be inquired into, for that 
they cannot inquire into it at all, without being 
technical and subtle. Then when they comment 
on the Gospels, they will speak of Christ, not simply 
and consistently as God. but as a being made up 
of God and man, partly one and partly the other, 
or between both, or as a man inhabited by a 
special divine presence. Sometimes they even go 
on to deny that He was the Son of God in heaven, 
saying that He became the Son, when He was con- 
ceived of the Holy Ghost : and they are shocked, and 
think it a mark both of reverence and good sense 
to be shocked, when the Man is spoken of simply 
and plainly as God. They cannot bear to have it 
said, except as a figure or mode of speaking, that 
God had a human body, or that God suffered ; they 
think that the "Atonement," and " Sanctification 
through the Spirit," as they speak, is the sum and 
substance of the Gospel, and they are shy of any 
dogmatic expression which goes beyond them. Such, 



XVII.] 



FOR THE SAKE OF HER SON. 



367 



I believe, is the character of the Protestant notions 
among us on the divinity of Christ, whether among 
members of the Anglican communion, or dissenters 
from it, excepting a section of the former. 

Now, if you would witness against these un- 
christian opinions, if you would bring out distinctly 
and beyond mistake and evasion, the simple idea of 
the Catholic Church that God is man, could you do 
it better than by laying down in St. John's words 
that "God became" man? and could you express this 
again more emphatically and unambiguously than by 
declaring that He was born a man, or that He had a 
Mother? The world allows that God is man; the 
admission costs it little, for God is every where, and 
(as it may say) is every thing ; but it shrinks from 
confessing that God is the Son of Mary. It shrinks, 
for it is at once confronted with a severe fact, which 
violates and shatters its own unbelieving view of 
things ; the revealed doctrine forthwith takes its true 
shape, and receives an historical reality ; and the Al- 
mighty is introduced into His own world at a certain 
time and in a definite way. Dreams are broken and 
shadows depart ; the truth of God is no longer a poe- 
tical expression, or a devotional exaggeration, or a 
mystical dispensation, or a mythical view. " Sacrifice 
and offering," the shadows of the Law," Thou wouldest 
not, but a body hast Thou fitted to Me." " That 
which was from the beginning, which we have heard, 
which we have seen with our eyes, which we have 
diligently looked upon, and our hands have handled," 



368 



THE GLORIES OF MARY 



[Disc. 



" That which we have seen and have heard, declare 
we unto you ;" such is the record of the Apostle, 
in opposition to those "spirits" which denied that 
" Jesus Christ had appeared in the flesh," and which 
" dissolved" Him by denying either His human 
nature or His divine. And the confession that 
Mary is Deipara, or the Mother of God, is that 
safeguard wherewith we seal up and secure the doc- 
trine of the Apostle from all evasion, and that test 
whereby we detect all the pretences of those bad 
spirits of "Antichrist whicli have gone out into the 
world." It declares that He is God ; it implies that 
He is man ; it conveys to us that He is God still, 
though He has become man, and that He is true 
man though He is God. By witnessing to the pro- 
cess of the union, it secures the reality of the two 
subjects of it, of the divinity and of the manhood. 
If Mary is the Mother of God, Christ is understood 
to be Emmanuel, God with us. And hence it was, 
that, when time went on, and the bad spirits and 
false prophets grew stronger and found a way into 
the Catholic body itself, the Church, guided by God, 
could find no more effectual and sure way of ex- 
pelling them, than that of using this word Deipara 
against them ; and, on the other hand, when they 
came up again from the realms of darkness, and 
plotted the utter overthrow of Christian faith in the 
sixteenth century, then they could find no more 
certain expedient for the purpose, than that of re- 
viling and blaspheming the prerogatives of Mary, 



XVII.] 



FOR THE SAKE OF HER SON. 



369 



for they knew full sure that, if they could once 
get the world to dishonour the Mother, the dis- 
honour of the Son would follow close. The Church 
and Satan agreed together in this, that Son and 
Mother went together ; and the experience of three 
centuries has confirmed their testimony, for Catho- 
lics who have honoured the Mother, still worship 
the Son, while Protestants who have ceased to con- 
fess the Son, had begun by scoffing at the Mother. 

You see then, my brethren, in this particular, the 
harmonious consistency of the revealed system, and 
the bearing of one doctrine upon another ; Mary is 
honoured for the sake of Jesus. It was fitting that 
she, as being a creature, though the first of creatures, 
should have an office of ministration. She, as 
others, came into the world to do a work, she had a 
mission to fulfil : her grace and her glory are not for 
her own sake, but for her Maker's ; and to her is 
committed the custody of the Incarnation ; this is 
her appointed office, — " A Virgin shall conceive, and 
bear a Son, and they shall call His Name Emmanuel." 
As she was on earth and personally the guardian of 
her Divine Son, as she carried Him in her womb, 
folded Him in her embrace, and suckled Him at 
her breast, so now, and to the latest hour of the 
Church, do her glories and the devotion paid her 
proclaim and define the right faith concerning Him 
as God and man. Every Church which is dedicated 
to her, every altar which is raised under her invo- 
cation, every image which represents her, every 

b b 



370 



THE GLORIES OF MARY 



[Disc. 



Litany in her praise, every Hail Mary for her con- 
tinual memory, does but remind us that there was 
One, who, though He was all blessed from all eternity, 
yet for the sake of sinners, " did not shrink from the 
Virgin's womb." Thus she is the Turris Davidica, 
as the Church calls her, " the Tower of David ;" the 
high and strong defence of the King of the true 
Israel ; and hence the Church also addresses her in 
the Antiphon, as having " by herself destroyed all 
heresies in the whole world." 

And here, my brethren, a fresh thought opens 
upon us, which is naturally implied in what has 
been said. If the Deipara is to witness of Emmanuel, 
she must be necessarily more than the Deipara. 
For consider ; a defence must be strong in order to 
be a defence ; a tower must be, like that Tower of 
David, " built with bulwarks ;" " a thousand bucklers 
hang upon it, all the armour of valiant men." It 
would not have sufficed, in order to bring out and 
impress on us the idea that God is man, had His 
Mother been an ordinary person. A mother with- 
out a home in the Church, without dignity, without 
gifts, would have been, as far as the defence of the In- 
carnation goes, no mother at all. She would not have 
remained in the memory, or the imagination of men. 
If she is to witness and remind the world that God 
became man, she must be on a high and eminent 
station for the purpose. She must be made to fill 
the mind, in order to suggest the lesson. When she 
once attracts our attention, she at once begins to 



XVII.] 



FOR THE SAKE OF HER SON. 



371 



preach Jesus. " Why should she have such prero- 
gatives," we ask, " unless He be God ? and what 
must He be by nature, when she is so high by 
grace?" This is why she has other prerogatives 
besides, the gifts of personal purity and intercessory 
power, distinct from her maternity ; she is personally 
endowed that she may perform her office well ; she 
is exalted in herself, that she may minister to 
Christ. 

For this reason, she has been made more glorious 
in her person than in her office ; her purity is a 
higher gift than her relationship to God. This is 
what is implied in Christ's answer to the woman in 
the crowd, who cried out, when He was preaching, 
" Blessed is the womb that bare Thee, and the 
breasts which Thou hast sucked." He replied by 
pointing out to His disciples a higher blessedness ; 
" Yea, rather blessed," He said, " are they who hear 
the word of God and keep it." You know, my 
brethren, that Protestants take these words in dis- 
paragement of our Lady's greatness, but they really 
tell the other way. For consider them carefully : 
He says that it is more blessed to keep His com- 
mandments than to be His Mother ; but what Pro- 
testant even will say that she did not keep His com- 
mandments? She kept them surely, and our Lord 
does but say that such obedience was in a higher 
line of privilege than her being His Mother ; 
she was more blessed in her detachment from 
creatures, in her devotion to God, in her virginal 

b b 2 



372 



THE GLORIES OF MARY 



[Disc. 



purity, than in her maternity ; and if, as Catholics 
hold, she obeyed ten thousand times more perfectly 
than the holiest of other men, then her sanctity was 
a prerogative, greater than that of others. This is 
the constant teaching of the Holy Fathers : " More 
blessed was Mary," says St. Augustine, " in receiving 
Christ's faith, than in conceiving Christ's flesh ;" and 
St. Chrysostorn declares, that she would not have 
been blessed, though she had borne Him in the 
body, had she not heard the word of God and kept 
it, This of course is an impossible case ; for she 
was made holy, that she might be made His Mother, 
and the two blessednesses cannot be divided. She 
who was chosen to supply flesh and blood to the 
Eternal Word, was first filled with grace in soul and 
body ; still, she had a double blessedness, of office, 
and of qualification for it, and the latter was the 
greater. And it is on this account that the Angel 
calls her blessed ; "Full of grace," he says, " blessed 
among women;" and St, Elizabeth also, when 
she cries out, " Blessed thou that hast believed." 
Nay, she herself bears a like testimony, when the 
Angel announced to her the favour which was 
coming on her. Though all Jewish women in each 
successive age had been hoping to be Mother of the 
Christ, so that marriage was honourable among 
them, celibacy a reproach, she alone had put aside 
the desire and the thought of so great a dignity. 
She alone, who was to bear the Christ, refused to 
bear Him ; He stooped to her, she turned from 



XVII.] 



FOR THE SAKE OF HER SON. 



378 



Him ; and why ? because she had been inspired, the 
first of womankind, to dedicate her virginity to God, 
and she did not welcome a privilege which seemed 
to involve a forfeiture of her vow. How shall 
this be, she asked, seeing I am separate from 
man ? Nor, till the Angel told her that the con- 
ception would be miraculous and from the Holy 
Ghost, did she put aside her "trouble" of mind, 
recognize him securely as God's messenger, and bow 
her head in awe and thankfulness to God's con- 
descension. 

Mary then is a specimen, and more than a 
specimen, in the purity of her soul and body, of 
what man was before his fall, and would have been, 
had he risen to his perfection. It had been hard, it 
had been a victory for the evil one, had the whole 
race passed away, nor an instance occurred to show 
what the Creator had intended it in its original 
state. Adam, you know, was created in the image, 
and after the likeness of God ; his frail and im- 
perfect nature was supported and exalted by an 
indwelling of divine grace. Impetuous passion did 
not exist in him, except as a latent element and a 
possible evil ; ignorance was dissipated by the clear 
light of the Spirit ; and reason, sovereign over every 
motion of his soul, was simply subjected to the will 
of God. Nay even his body was preserved from 
every wayward appetite and affection, and was 
promised immortality instead of dissolution. Thus 
he was in a supernatural state ; and, had he not 



374 



THE GLORIES OF MARY 



[Disc. 



sinned, year after year would he have advanced in 
merit and grace, and in God's favour, till he passed 
from paradise to heaven. But he fell ; and his 
descendants were born in his likeness ; and the 
world grew w r orse instead of better, and judgment 
after judgment cut off generations of sinners in 
vain, and improvement was hopeless, ie because man 
was flesh," and " the thoughts of his heart were 
bent upon evil at all times." But a remedy had 
been determined in heaven ; a Redeemer was at 
hand ; God was about to do a great work, and He 
purposed to do it suitably ; " where sin abounded, 
grace was to abound more." Kings of the earth, 
when they have sons born to them, forthwith 
scatter some large bounty, or raise some high me- 
morial ; they honour the day, or the place, or the 
heralds of the auspicious event, with some cor- 
responding mark of favour ; nor did the coming of 
Emmanuel innovate on the world's established cus- 
tom. It was a season of grace and prodigy, and 
these were to be exhibited in a special manner in 
the person of His Mother. The course of ages was 
to be reversed ; the tradition of evil to be broken ; a 
gate of light to be opened amid the darkness,* for 
the coming of the Just ; — a Virgin conceived and 
bore Him. It was fitting, for His honour and glory, 
that she, who was the instrument of His bodily pre- 
sence, should first be a miracle of His grace ; it was 
fitting that she should triumph, where Eve had failed, 
and should " bruise the serpent's head" by the spot- 



XVII.] 



FOR THE SAKE OF HER SON. 



375 



lessness of her sanctity. In some respects, indeed, 
the curse was not reversed ; Mary came into a fallen 
world, and resigned herself to its laws ; she, as the 
Son she bore, was exposed to pain of soul and body, 
she was subjected to death ; but she was not put 
under the power of sin. As grace was infused into 
Adam from the first moment of his creation, so that 
he never had experience of his natural poverty, till 
sin reduced him to it; so was grace given in still 
ampler measure to Mary, and she was a stranger to 
Adam's deprivation. She began where others end, 
whether in knowledge or in love. She was from 
the first clothed in sanctity, sealed for perseverance, 
luminous and glorious in God's sight, and incessantly 
employed in meritorious acts, which continued till 
her last breath. Her's was emphatically " the path 
of the just, which, as the shining light, goeth for- 
ward and increaseth even to the perfect day ;" and 
sinlessness in thought, word, and deed, in small 
things as well as great, in venial matter as well as 
grievous, is surely but the natural and obvious 
sequel of such a beginning. If Adam might have 
kept himself from sin in his first state, much more 
shall we expect immaculate perfection in Mary. 

Such is her prerogative of sinless perfection, and 
it is, as her maternity, for the sake of Emmanuel ; 
hence she answered the Angel's salutation Gratia 
plena, with the humble acknowledgment, Ecce an- 
cilla Domini, " Behold the handmaid of the Lord." 
And like to this is her third prerogative, which fol- 



376 



THE GLORIES OF MARY 



[Disc. 



lows both from her maternity and purity, and which 
I will mention as completing the enumeration of her 
glories, I mean her intercessory power. For, if 
" God heareth not sinners, but if a man be a wor- 
shipper of Him, and do His will, him He heareth ;" 
if "the continual prayer of a just man availeth 
much;" if faithful Abraham was required to pray 
for Abimelech, "for he was a prophet;" if patient 
Job was to "pray for his friends," for he had 
"spoken right things before God;" if meek Moses, 
by lifting up his hands, turned the battle in favour 
of Israel against Amalec ; why should we wonder at 
hearing that Mary, the only spotless child of Adam's 
seed, has a transcendent influence with the God of 
grace ? And if the Gentiles at Jerusalem sought 
Philip, because he was an Apostle, when they 
desired access to Jesus, and Philip spoke to Andrew, 
as still more closely in our Lord's confidence, and 
then both came to Him, is it strange that the Mother 
should have power with the Son, distinct in kind 
from that of the purest Angel and the most tri- 
umphant Saint ? If we have faith to admit the 
Incarnation itself, we must admit it in its fulness ; 
why then should we start at the gracious appoint- 
ments which arise out of it, or are necessary to it, or 
are included in it ? If the Creator comes on earth 
in the form of a servant and a creature, why may 
not His Mother on the other hand rise to be the 
Queen of heaven, and be clothed with the sun, and 
have the moon under her feet ? 



XVII.] 



FOR THE SAKE OF HER SON. 



377 



I am not proving these doctrines to you, my 
brethren ; the evidence of them lies in the declara- 
tion of the Church. The Church is the oracle of 
religious truth, and dispenses what the Apostles 
committed to her in every time and place. We 
must take her word, then, without proof, because 
she is sent to us from God to teach us how to 
please Him ; and that we do so is the test whether 
we be really Catholics or no. I am not proving 
then what you already receive, but I am showing 
you the beauty and the harmony, as seen in one 
instance, of the Church's teaching ; which are so well 
adapted, as they are divinely intended, to recom- 
mend it to the enquirer and to endear it to her 
children. One word more, and I have done ; I have 
shown you how full of meaning are the truths them- 
selves which she teaches concerning the Most Blessed 
Virgin, and now consider how full of meaning also 
has been her dispensation of them. 

You will find then, in this respect, as in Mary's 
prerogatives themselves, the same careful reference 
to the glory of Him who gave them to her. You 
know, when first He went out to preach, she kept 
apart from Him ; she interfered not with His work ; 
and even when He was gone up on high, yet she, a 
woman, went not out to preach or teach, she seated 
not herself in the Apostolic chair, she took no part 
in the Priest's office ; she did but humbly seek her 
Son in their daily Mass, who, though her ministers 
in heaven, were her superiors in the Church on 



378 



THE GLORIES OF MARY 



[Disc. 



earth. Nor, when she and they had left this lower 
scene, and she was a Queen upon her Son's right hand, 
not even then did she call on the faithful people to 
publish her name to the ends of the world or to 
hold her up to the world's gaze, but she remained 
waiting for the time, when her own glory should be 
necessary for His. He indeed had been from the 
first proclaimed by Holy Church, and enthroned 
in His temple, for He was God ; ill had it beseemed 
the living Oracle of Truth to have withholden from 
the faithful the object of their adoration ; but it was 
otherwise with Mary. It became her as a creature, 
a mother, and a woman, to stand aside and make 
way for the Creator, to minister to her Son, and to 
win her way into the world's homage by sweet and 
gracious persuasion. So when His Name was dis- 
honoured, she forthwith was filled with zeal ; when 
Emmanuel was denied, the Mother of God came 
forward ; the Mother threw her arms around her 
Son, and let herself be honoured in order to secure 
His Throne. And then, when she had accomplished 
as much as this, she had done with strife ; she 
fought not for herself. No fierce controversy, no 
persecuted confessors, no heresiarch, no anathema, 
marks the history of her manifestation ; as she had 
increased day by day in grace and merit, while the 
world knew not of it, so has she raised herself aloft 
silently, and has grown into the Church by a tran- 
quil influence and a natural process. It was as 
some fair tree, stretching forth her fruitful branches 



XVII.] 



FOR THE SAKE OF HER SON. 



379 



and her fragrant leaves, and overshadowing the 
territory of the Saints. And thus the Antiphon 
speaks of her ; " Let thy dwelling be in Jacob, and 
thine inheritance in Israel, and strike thy roots in 
My elect." Again, "And so in Sion was I esta- 
blished, and in the holy city I likewise rested, and 
in Jerusalem was my power. And I took root in an 
honourable people, and in the fulness of the Saints 
was I detained. I was exalted like a cedar in Le- 
banus, and as a cypress in mount Sion ; I have 
stretched out My branches as the terebinth, and My 
branches are of honour and grace." Thus was she 
reared without hands, and gained a modest victory, 
and exerts a gentle sway, which she has not claimed. 
When dispute arose about her among her children, 
she hushed it ; when objections were urged against 
her, she waved her claims and waited ; till now, in 
this very day, should God so will, she will win at 
length her most radiant crown, and, without oppos- 
ing voice, and amid the jubilation of the whole 
Church, she will be hailed as immaculate in her 
conception. 

Such art thou, Holy Mother, in the creed and the 
worship of the Church, the defence of many truths, 
the grace and smiling light of every devotion. In 
thee, O Mary, is fulfilled, as we can bear it, an 
original purpose of the Most High. He once had 
meant to come on earth in heavenly glory, but we 
sinned ; and then He could not safely visit us, 
except with shrouded radiance and a bedimmed 



380 



THE GLORIES OF MARY, &c. 



majesty, for He was God. So He came Himself in 
weakness, not in power ; and He sent thee a crea- 
ture, in His stead, with a creature's comeliness and 
lustre suited to our state. And now thy very face 
and form, sweet Mother, speak to us of the Eternal; 
not like earthly beauty, dangerous to look upon, but 
like the morning star, which is thy emblem, bright 
and musical, breathing purity, telling of heaven, and 
infusing peace. O harbinger of day ! O hope of 
the pilgrim ! lead us as thou hast led ; in the dark 
night, across the bleak wilderness, guide us on to 
Jesus, guide us home. 

Maria, mater gratise, 
Dulcis parens clementise, 
Tu nos ab hoste protege 
Et mortis hora suscipe. 



DISCOURSE XVIII. 



ON THE FITNESS OF THE GLORIES OF MARY. 



You may recollect, my brethren, our Lord's words, 
when, on the day of His resurrection, He had joined 
the two disciples on their way to Emmaus, and 
found them sad and perplexed in consequence of His 
death. He said, " Ought not Christ to suffer these 
things, and so to enter into His glory?" He ap- 
pealed to the fitness and congruity of this otherwise 
surprising event, to the other truths which had been 
generally revealed concerning the divine purpose of 
saving the world. And so too, St. Paul, in speaking 
of the same wonderful appointment of God ; " It 
became Him," he says, " for whom are all things, 
and through whom are all things, who had brought 
many sons unto glory, to consummate the Author of 
their salvation by suffering." Elsewhere, speaking 
of prophesying, or expounding what is latent in 
divine truth, he bids his brethren exercise the gift 



382 



OX THE FITNESS OF 



[Disc. 



" according to the analogy or rule of faith ;" that is, 
so that the doctrine preached may correspond and 
fit in to what is already received. Thus you see. it 
is a great evidence of truth, in the case of revealed 
teaching, that it is so consistent, that it so hangs 
together, that one thing springs out of another, that 
each part requires and is required by the rest. 

This great principle, which is exemplified so va- 
riously in the structure and history of Catholic doc- 
trine, which will receive more and more illustrations 
the more carefully and minutely we examine the 
subject, is brought before us especially at this sea- 
son, when we are celebrating the Assumption of our 
Blessed Lady the Mother of God into heaven. 
We believe it on the authority of the Church ; 
but, viewed in the light of reason, it is the fitness 
of this termination of her earthly course, which so 
persuasively recommends it to our minds : we feel 
it "ought 5 " to be ; that it " becomes" her Lord and 
Son thus to provide for one who was so singular 
and special both in herself and her relations to Him. 
We find that it is simply in harmony with the sub- 
stance and main outlines of the doctrine of the In- 
carnation, and that without it Catholic teaching- 
would have a character of incompleteness, and 
would disappoint our pious expectations. 

Let us direct our thoughts to this subject to-day, 
my brethren ; and with a view of helping you to do 
so, I will first state what the Church has taught and 
defined from the first ages concerning the Blessed 



XVIIL] 



THE GLORIES OF MARY. 



383 



Virgin, and then you will see how naturally the de- 
votion which her children show her, and the praises 
with which they honour her, follow from it. 

Now, as you know, it has been held from the 
first, and defined from an early age, that Mary is 
the Mother of God. She is not merely the Mother 
of our Lord's manhood, or of our Lord's body, but 
she is to be considered the Mother of the Word 
Himself, the Word incarnate. God, in the Person 
of the Word, the Second Person of the All-glorious 
Trinity, humbled Himself to become her Son. Non 
horruisti Virginis uterum, as the Church sings, 
" Thou didst not shrink from the Virgin's womb." 
He took the substance of His human flesh from 
her, and clothed in it He lay within her, and He 
bore it about with Him after birth, as a sort of 
badge and witness, that He, though God, was hers. 
He was nursed and tended by her ; He was suckled 
by her ; He lay in her arms. As time went on 
He ministered to her, and obeyed her. He lived 
with her for thirty years, in one house, with an un- 
interrupted intercourse, and with only the saintly 
Joseph to share it with Him. She was the witness 
of His growth, of His joys, of His sorrows, of His 
prayers ; she was blest with His smile, with the 
touch of His hand, with the whisper of His affec- 
tion, with the expression of His thoughts and His 
feelings, for that length of time. Now, my brethren, 
what ought she to be, what is it becoming that she 
should be, who was so favoured ? 



384 



ON THE FITNESS OF 



[Disc. 



Such a question was once asked by a heathen 
king, when he would place one of his subjects in a 
dignity becoming the relation in which he stood 
towards hiin. That subject had saved the king's 
life, and what was to be done to him in return ? 
The king asked, " What should be done to the man 
whom the king desireth to honour?" And he re- 
ceived the following answer, " The man whom the 
king wisheth to honour ought to be clad in the king's 
apparel, and to be mounted on the king's saddle, 
and to receive the royal diadem on his head ; and 
let the first among the king's princes and presidents 
hold his horse, and let him walk through the street 
of the city, and say, Thus shall he be honoured, 
whom the king hath a mind to honour." So stands 
the case with Mary ; she gave birth to the Creator, 
and what recompence shall be made her? what 
shall be done to her, who had this relationship to 
the Most High ? what shall be the fit accompani- 
ment of one whom the Almightyhas deigned to make, 
not His servant, not His friend, not His intimate, 
but His superior, the source of His second being, 
the nurse of His helpless infancy, the teacher of 
His opening years ? I answer, as the king was an- 
swered ; nothing is too high for her to whom God 
owes His life ; no exuberance of grace, no excess of 
glory but is becoming, but is to be expected there, 
where God has lodged Himself, whence God has 
issued. Let her " be clad in the king's apparel," that 
is, let the fulness of the Godhead so flow into her 



XVIII.] 



THE GLORIES OF MARY. 



385 



that she may be a figure of the incommunicable 
sanctity, and beauty, and glory, of God Himself : 
that she may be the Mirror of Justice, the Mys- 
tical Rose, the Tower of Ivory, the House of 
Gold, the Morning Star ; — let her " receive the 
king's diadem upon her head," as the Queen of 
heaven, the Mother of all living, the Health of the 
weak, the Refuge of sinners, the Comforter of the 
afflicted ; — and " let the first amongst the king's 
princes walk before her," let Angels, and Prophets, 
and Apostles, and Martyrs, and all Saints kiss the 
hem of her garment and rejoice under the shadow 
of her throne. Thus is it that King Solomon has 
risen up to meet His mother, and bowed Himself 
unto her, and caused a seat to be set for the King's 
Mother, and she sits on His right hand. 

We should be prepared then, my brethren, to 
believe, that the Mother of God is full of grace 
and glory, from the very fitness of such a dispen- 
sation, even though we had not been taught it ; and 
this fitness will appear still more clear and certain 
when we contemplate the subject more steadily. 
Consider then, that it has been the ordinary rule 
of God's dealings with us, that personal sanctity 
should be the attendant upon high spiritual dig- 
nity of place or work. The Angels, who, as the 
word imports, are God's messengers, are also per- 
fect in holiness ; " without sanctity no one shall 
see God ;" no defiled thing can enter the courts 
of heaven ; and the higher its inhabitants are ad- 

c c 



386 



ON THE FITNESS OF 



[Disc. 



vanced in their ministry about the throne, the holier 
are they, and the deeper in their contemplation of 
that Holiness upon which they wait. The Sera- 
phim, who immediately surround the Divine Glory, 
cry day and night, " Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God of 
hosts." So is it also on earth; the Prophets have 
ordinarily not only gifts, but graces ; they are not 
only inspired to know and to teach God's will, but 
inwardly converted to obey it. Those then only can 
preach the truth duly, we feel it personally ; those 
only transmit it fully from God to man, who have in 
the transmission made it their own. 

I do not say that there are no exceptions to this 
rule, but they admit of an easy explanation ; I do not 
say that it never pleases Almighty God to convey any 
intimation of His will through bad men ; of course 
He turns all to good. By all, even the wicked, He 
accomplishes His purposes, and by the wicked He is 
glorified. Our Lord's death was brought about by 
His enemies, who did His will, while they thought 
they were gratifying their own. Caiaphas, who con- 
trived and effected it, was made use of to predict it. 
Balaam prophesied good of God's people in an 
earlier age, by a divine compulsion, when he wished 
to prophesy evil. This is true; but in such cases 
Divine Mercy is plainly overruling the evil, and 
showing His power, without recognizing or sanc- 
tioning the instrument. And again, it is true, as 
He tells us Himself, that in the last day " Many shall 
say, Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in Thy 



XVIII.] 



THE GLORIES OF MARY. 



387 



Name, and in thy Name cast out devils, and done 
many miracles?" and that He shall answer, "I never 
knew you." This, I say, is undeniable ; it is un- 
deniable first, that those who have prophesied in 
God's Name may afterwards fall from God, and lose 
their souls. Let a man be ever so holy now, he may 
fall away ; and, as present grace is no pledge of per- 
severance, much less are present gifts ; but how does 
this show that gifts and graces do not commonly go 
together? Again, it is undeniable that those who 
have had miraculous gifts may nevertheless have 
never been in God's favour, not even when they 
exercised them ; as I will explain presently. But 
I am now speaking, not of having gifts, but of 
being prophets. To be a prophet is something much 
more personal than to possess gifts. It is a sacred 
office, it implies a mission, and is the distinction, 
not of the enemies of God, but of His friends. 
Such is the Scripture rule ; who was the first 
prophet and preacher of justice? Enoch, who 
walked "by faith," and "pleased God," and was 
taken from a rebellious world. Who was the 
second ? " Noe," who " condemned the world, and 
was made heir of the justice which is through faith." 
Who was the next great prophet ? Moses, the 
lawgiver of the chosen people, who was the " meek- 
est of all men who dwell on the earth." Samuel 
comes next, who served the Lord from his infancy in 
the Temple ; and then David, who, if he fell into sin, 
repented, and was " a man after God's heart." And 

c c 2 



388 



ON THE FITNESS OF 



[Disc. 



in like manner Job, Elias, Isaias, Jeremias, Daniel, 
and above them all St. John Baptist, and then again 
St. Peter, St, Paul, St. John, and the rest, are all 
especial instances of heroic virtue and patterns to 
their brethren. Judas is the exception, but this was 
by a particular dispensation to enhance our Lord's 
humiliation and suffering. 

If then such be the case with those " to whom 
the word of God was made," what shall we say of 
her, who was so favoured that the true and sub- 
stantial Word, and not His shadow or His voice, 
was, not merely made in her, but born of her ? who 
was not merely the organ of God's message, but the 
origin of His human existence, the living fountain 
from which He drew His most precious blood, and 
the material of His most holy flesh ? Was it not 
fitting, beseemed it not, that she should be pre- 
pared for this ministration by some special sanctifi- 
cation ? Do not earthly parents so by their infants ? 
do they put them out to strangers ? do they commit 
them to any chance person to suckle them? Even 
irreligious parents would show a certain tenderness 
and solicitude here, though they did not understand 
or regard what was good and pleasing in the sight of 
God ; and shall not God Himself show it when He 
commits His Eternal Word to the custody of man ? 
Nature witnesses in like manner to the communion 
between sanctity and truth ; it anticipates that the 
fountain from which pure doctrine comes, should 
itself be pure ; that the seat of divine teaching, and 



XVIII.] 



THE GLORIES OF MARY. 



389 



the oracle of faith, should be the abode of Angels ; 
that the consecrated home, in which the word of 
God is elaborated, and whence it issues forth for the 
salvation of the many, should be holy, as that word 
is holy. Here you see the difference between the 
ofhce of a prophet and a mere gift, such as that of 
miracles. Miracles are the simple and direct work 
of God ; the worker of them is but an instrument or 
organ. And in consequence he need not be holy, 
because he has not, strictly speaking, a share in the 
work. So again the power of administering the 
Sacraments, which is supernatural and miraculous, 
does not imply personal holiness ; nor is there any 
thing surprising in God giving to a bad man this 
gift, or the gift of miracles, any more than in His 
giving him any natural talent or gift, strength or 
agility of frame, eloquence, or medical skill. It is 
otherwise with the office of preaching and pro- 
phesying, and of this I have been speaking ; for the 
truth first goes into their minds, and is apprehended 
and fashioned there, and then comes out from them as, 
in one sense, its source and its parent. The divine 
word is begotten in them, and the offspring has their 
features and tells of them. They are not like " the 
dumb animal, speaking with man's voice," on which 
Balaam rode, a mere instrument of God's word, but 
they have " received an unction from the Holy One, 
and they know all things," and " where the Spirit of 
the Lord is, there is liberty ;" and while they deliver 
what they have received, they enforce what they feel 



390 



ON THE FITNESS OF 



[Disc. 



and know. " We have known and believed" says 
St. John, " the charity which God hath to us." 

So has it been all through the history of the 
Church ; Moses does not write as David ; nor Isaias 
as Jeremias ; nor St. John as St. Paul. And so of the 
great Doctors of the Church, St. Athanasius, St. Au- 
gustine, St. Ambrose, St. Leo, St. Thomas, each has 
his own manner, each speaks his own words, though 
he speaks the while the words of God. They speak 
from themselves, they speak from the heart, they 
speak in their own persons, from their own ex- 
perience, with their own arguments, with their own 
deductions, with their own modes of expression. Now 
can you fancy, my brethren, such hearts, such feel- 
ings to be unholy? how could it be so, without 
defiling, and thereby nullifying, the word of God? 
If one drop of corruption makes the purest w r ater 
worthless, as the slightest savour of bitterness spoils 
the most delicate viands, how can it be that the 
word of truth and holiness, can proceed profitably 
from impure lips and an earthly heart ? No, as is 
the tree, so is the fruit ; " beware of false prophets," 
says our Lord ; and then He adds, " from their 
fruits ye shall know them. Do men gather grapes 
of thorns, or figs of thistles ?" Is it not so, my 
brethren ? which of you would go to ask counsel of 
another, however learned, however gifted, however 
aged, if you thought him unholy? nay, though you 
feel and are sure, as far as absolution goes, that a bad 
priest could give it as really as a holy priest, yet for 



XVIIL] 



THE GLORIES OF MARY. 



391 



advice, for comfort, for instruction, you would not 
go to one whom you did not respect. Out of the 
abundance of the heart, the mouth speaketh;" "a 
good man out of the good treasure of his heart 
bringeth forth good, and an evil man out of the evil 
treasure bringeth forth evil." 

So then is it in the case of the soul ; and so is it 
also in the case of the body ; as the offspring of 
holiness is holy in spiritual births, so is it here also. 
Mary was no mere instrument in God's dispensation; 
the Word of God did not merely come and go ; He 
did not merely pass through her, as He may pass 
through us in Holy Communion ; it was no heavenly 
body which the Eternal Son assumed, fashioned by 
the Angels, and brought down to this lower world : 
no ; He imbibed, He sucked up her blood and her 
substance into His Divine Person ; He became man 
of her ; and received her lineaments and her features 
as the semblance and character under which He 
should manifest Himself to the world. His likeness 
would show whose Son He was. Thus His Mother 
is the first of Prophets, for of her came the Word 
bodily ; she is the sole oracle of Truth, for the Way, 
the Truth, and the Life, vouchsafed to be her Son ; 
she is the one mould of Divine Wisdom, in which 
It was indelibly cast. Surely then, if " the first 
fruit be holy, the mass also is holy ; and if the root 
be holy, so are the branches." It was natural, it 
was fitting, that so it should be ; it was congruous 
that, whatever the Omnipotent could work in the 



892 



ON THE FITNESS OF 



[Disc. 



person of the finite, should be wrought in her. It 
was to be expected that, if the Son was God, the 
Mother should be as worthy of Him, as creature can 
be worthy of Creator ; that grace should have iu her 
its " perfect work ;" that, if she bore the Eternal 
Wisdom, she should be that created wisdom in 
whom " is all the grace of the Way and the Truth 
that if she be the Mother of " fair love, and fear, 
and knowledge, and holy hope," " she should give an 
odour like cinnamon and balm, and sweetness like 
to choice myrrh." Can we set bounds to the holi- 
ness of her who was the Mother of the Holiest ? 

Such then is the truth ever cherished in the deep 
heart of the Church, and witnessed by the keen 
apprehension of her children, that no limit but those 
of created nature can be assigned to the sanctity of 
Mary. Did Abrabam believe that a son should be 
born to him of his aged wife ? then Mary's faith 
was greater when she accepted Gabriel's message. 
Did Judith consecrate her widowhood to God to the 
surprise of her people ? much more did Mary, from 
her first youth, devote her virginity. Did Samuel 
when a child inhabit the Temple, secluded from the 
world ? Mary too was by her parents lodged in the 
same holy precincts, at the age when children begin 
to choose between good and evil. Was Solomon on 
his birth called " Dear to the Lord ? " and shall not 
the destined Mother of God be dear to Him, from 
the moment she was born ? But further still ; St. 
John Baptist was sanctified by the Spirit before His 



XVIII.] 



THE GLORIES OF MARY. 



393 



birth ; shall Mary be only equal to him ? is it not 
fitting that her privilege should surpass his ? is it 
wonderful, if grace, which prevented his birth by 
three months, should in her case run up to the very 
first moment of her being, outstrip the imputation 
of sin, and be beforehand with the usurpation of 
Satan ? Mary must surpass all the Saints ; the very 
fact that certain privileges are known to have been 
theirs, proves to us at once, from the necessity of 
the case, that she had the same and higher. Her 
conception was immaculate, in order that she might 
surpass all Saints in the date as well as the fulness 
of her sanctification. 

But, though the grace bestowed upon her was so 
incomprehensibly great, do not therefore suppose, 
my brethren, that it excluded her co-operation ; she, 
as we, was on her trial ; she, as we, increased in 
grace ; she, as we, merited the increase. Here is 
another thought leading to the conclusion which I 
have been drawing. She was not like some inani- 
mate work of the Creator, made beautiful and glorious 
by the law of its being ; she ended, not began, with 
her full perfection. She had a first grace and a 
second grace, and she gained the second from her 
use of the first. She was altogether a moral agent, 
as others ; she advanced on, as all saints do, from 
strength to strength, from height to height, so that 
at five years old she had merited what she had not 
merited at her birth, and at thirteen what she had 
not merited at five. Well, my brethren, of what 



394 



ON THE FITNESS OF 



[Disc. 



was she thought worthy, when she was thirteen? 
what did it seem fitting to confer on that poor child, 
at an age when most children have not begun to 
think of God or themselves, or to use the grace He 
gives them at all ; at an age, when many a Saint, as 
he is in the event, is still in the heavy slumber of sin, 
and is meriting, not good, but evil at the hands of 
his just Judge % It befitted the sanctity with which 
she was by that time beautified, that she should be 
raised to the dignity of Mother of God. There is 
doubtless no measure between human nature and 
God's rewards ; He allows us to merit what we 
cannot claim except from His allowance. He pro- 
mises us heaven for our good deeds here, and under 
the covenant of that promise we are justly said to 
merit it, though heaven is an infinite good and we are 
but finite creatures. When then I say that Mary 
merited to be the Mother of God, I am speaking of 
what it was natural and becoming that God, being- 
God, should grant to the more than angelical perfec- 
tion which she by His grace had obtained. I do 
not say that she could claim, any more than she 
did contemplate, the reward which she received; but 
allowing this, still consider how heroical, how tran- 
scendental must have been that saintliness, for which 
this prerogative was God's return. Enoch was taken 
away from among the wicked, and we therefore say, 
Behold a just man who was too good for the world. 
Noe was saved, and saved others, from the flood ; 
and we say therefore that he earned it by his jus- 



XVIIL] 



THE GLORIES OF MARY. 



395 



tice. How great was Abraham's faith, since it 
gained him the title of the friend of God ! How 
great was the zeal of the Levites, since they merited 
thereby to be the sacerdotal tribe ! How great the 
love of David, since, for his sake, the kingdom was 
not taken away from his son when he fell into 
idolatry ! How great the innocence of Daniel, since 
he had it revealed to him in this life that he should 
persevere to the end ! What then the faith, the 
zeal, the love, the innocence of Mary, since it pre- 
pared her after so brief a period to be the Mother of 
God! 

Hence you see, my brethren, that our Lady's 
glories do not rest simply on her maternity ; that 
distinction is rather the crown of them : unless she 
had been " full of grace," as the Angel speaks, un- 
less she had been predestinated to be the Queen of 
Saints, unless she had merited more than all men 
and Angels together, she would not have fitly been 
exalted to her unspeakable dignity. The Feast of 
the Annunciation, when Gabriel came to her, the 
Christmas Feast, when Christ was born, is the 
centre, not the range of her glories ; it is the noon 
of her day, the measure of her beginning and her 
ending. It recalls our thoughts to the Feast of her 
Conception, and then it carries them on to the 
Feast of the Assumption. It suggests to us how 
pure had been her rising, and it anticipates for us 
how glorious was to be her setting. 

Come, my dear brethren, I would not weary you 



396 



ON THE FITNESS OF 



[Disc. 



with argument in a festive season ; yet, let me 
finish as I have begun ; — I will be brief, and bear 
with me if I view the bright Assumption of our 
Lady, as I have done her immaculate purity, rather 
as a point of doctrine, than as a theme for devotion. 

It was surely fitting then, it was becoming, that 
she should be taken up into heaven and not lie in 
the grave till Christ's second coming, who had passed 
a life of sanctity and of miracle such as hers. All 
the works of God are in a beautiful harmony ; they 
are carried on to the end as they begin. This is the 
difficulty which men of the world find in believing 
miracles at all ; they think these break the order and 
consistency of God's visible world, not knowing that 
they do but subserve to a higher order of things, 
and introduce a supernatural perfection. But at least, 
my brethren, when one miracle is wrought, it may 
be expected to draw others after it to complete 
what is begun. Miracles must be wrought for some 
great end ; and if the course of things fell back 
again into a natural order before its termination, 
how could we but feel a disappointment? and, if 
we were told that this was to be, how could we but 
judge the information improbable and difficult to 
believe % Now this applies to the history of our 
Lady. I say, it would be a greater miracle, if, her 
life being what it was, her death was like that of 
other men, than if it were such as to correspond to 
her life. Who can conceive, my brethren, that God 
should so repay the debt He condescended to owe 



XVIII.] 



THE GLORIES OF MARY. 



397 



to His Mother, for His human body, as to allow the 
flesh and blood from which it was taken to moulder 
in the grave ? Do the sons of men thus deal with 
their mothers ? do they not nourish and sustain 
them in their feebleness, and keep them in life 
while they are able ? Or who can conceive, that 
that virginal frame, which never sinned, was to un- 
dergo the death of a sinner % Why should she share 
the curse of Adam, who had no share in his fall? 
"Dust thou art, and into dust thou shalt return," 
was the sentence upon sin ; she then who was not a 
sinner, fitly never saw corruption. She died then, 
my brethren, because even our Lord and Saviour 
died ; she died, as she suffered, because she was in 
this world, because she was in a state of things in 
which suffering and death was the rule. She lived 
under their external sway ; and, as she obeyed Cassar 
by coming for enrolment to Bethlehem, so did she, 
when God willed it, yield to the tyranny of death, 
and was dissolved into soul and body, as well as 
others. But though she died as well as others, she 
died not as others die ; for, through the merits of 
her Son, by whom she w T as what she was, by the 
grace of Christ which in her had anticipated sin, 
which had filled her with light, which had purified 
her flesh from all defilement, she had been saved 
from disease and malady, and all that weakens 
and decays the bodily frame. Original sin had not 
been found in her, through the wear of her senses, 
and the waste of her substance, and the decrepitude 



398 



ON THE FITNESS OF 



[Disc. 



of years, propagating death. She died, but her 
death was a mere fact, not an effect ; and, when 
it was over, it ceased to he. She died, that she 
might live ; she died as a matter of form or a cere- 
mony (as I may call it) to fulfil, what is called, the 
debt of nature, — as she received baptism or confir- 
mation, — not primarily for herself or because of sin, 
but to submit herself to her condition, to glorify God, 
to do what her Son did ; not however as her Son and 
Saviour, with any suffering, or for any special end ; 
not with a martyr's death, for her martyrdom had 
been before it, not as an atonmeent, for man could not 
make it, and One had made it, and made it for all ; 
but in order to finish her course, and to receive her 
crown. 

And therefore she died in private. It became 
Him, who died for the world, to die in the world's 
sight ; it became the great Sacrifice to be lifted up 
on high, as a light that could not be hid. But she, 
the lily of Eden, who had always dwelt out of the 
sight of man, fittingly did she die in the garden's 
shade, and amid the sweet flowers in which she had 
lived. Her departure made no noise in the world. 
The Church went about her common duties, preach- 
ing, converting, suffering ; there were persecutions, 
there was fleeing from place to place, there were 
martyrs, there were triumphs ; at length the rumour 
spread through Christendom that Mary was no 
longer upon earth. Pilgrims went to and fro ; they 
sought for her relics, but these were not ; did she die 



XVIII.] 



THE GLORIES OF MARY. 



399 



at Ephesus ? or did she die at Jerusalem % accounts 
varied ; but her tomb could not be pointed out, or, 
if it was found, it was open ; and instead of her pure 
and fragrant body, there was a growth of lilies from 
the earth which she had touched. So inquirers 
went home marvelling, and waiting for further 
light. And then the tradition came, wafted west- 
ward on the aromatic breeze, how that when the 
time of her dissolution was at hand, and her soul 
was to pass in triumph before the judgment-seat of 
her Son, the Apostles were suddenly gathered toge- 
ther in one place, even in the Holy City, to bear 
part in the joyful ceremonial ; how that they buried 
her with fitting rites ; how that the third day, when 
they came to the tomb, they found it empty, and 
angelic choirs with their glad voices were heard 
singing day and night the glories of their risen 
Queen. But, however we feel towards the details 
of this history, (nor is there any thing in it which will 
be unwelcome or difficult to piety,) so much cannot 
be doubted, from the consent of the whole Catholic 
world and the revelations made to holy souls, that, 
as is befitting, she is, soul and body, with her Son 
and God in heaven, and that we have to celebrate, 
not only her death, but her Assumption. 

And now, my dear brethren, what is befitting in 
us, if ail that I have been telling you is befitting in 
Mary? If the Mother of Emmanuel ought to be 
the first of creatures in sanctity and in beauty ; if it 



400 



ON THE FITNESS OF 



[Disc. 



became her to be free from all sin from the very 
first, and from the moment she received her first 
grace to begin to merit more ; and if such as was 
her beginning, such was her end, her conception 
immaculate and her death an assumption ; if she 
died, but revived, and is exalted on high; what is 
befitting in the children of such a Mother, but an 
imitation, in their measure, of her devotion, her 
meekness, her simplicity, her modesty, and her 
sweetness ? Her glories are not only for the sake 
of her Son, they are for our sakes also. Let us 
copy her faith, who received God's message by the 
Angel without a doubt ; her patience, who endured 
St. Joseph's surprise without a word ; her obedience, 
who went up to Bethlehem in the winter and bore 
our Lord in a stable ; her meditative spirit, who 
pondered in her heart what she saw and heard about 
Him ; her fortitude, whose heart the sword went 
through ; her self-surrender, who gave Him up 
during His ministry and consented to His death. 

Above all let us imitate her purity, who, rather 
than relinquish her virginity, chose to lose Him for 
a Son. O my dear children, young men and young 
women, what need have you of the intercession of 
the Virgin-mother, of her help, of her pattern, in 
this respect ! What shall bring you forward in the 
narrow way, if you live in the world, but the thought 
and the patronage of Mary ! What shall seal your 
senses, what shall tranquillize your heart, when 
sights and sounds of danger are around you, but 

2> 



XVIII.] 



THE GLORIES OF MARY. 



401 



Mary ? What shall give you patience and endurance, 
when you are wearied out with the length of the 
conflict with evil, with the unceasing necessity of 
precautions, with the irksomeness of observing them, 
with the tecliousness of their repetition, with the 
strain upon your mind, with your forlorn and cheer- 
less condition, but a loving communion with her? 
She will comfort you in your discouragements, solace 
you in your fatigue, raise you after your falls, reward 
you for your successes. She will show you her Son, 
your God and your all. When your spirit within 
you is excited, or relaxed, or depressed, when it loses 
its balance, when it is restless and wayward, when 
it is sick of what it has, and hankers after what 
it has not, when your eye is solicited with evil, 
and your mortal frame trembles under the shadow 
of the Tempter, what will bring you to yourselves, to 
peace and to health, but the cool breath of the 
Immaculate and the fragrance of the Rose of 
Saron? It is the boast of the Catholic Religion, 
that it has the gift of making the young heart chaste ; 
and why is this, but that it gives us Jesus for 
our food, and Mary for our nursing Mother ? 
Fulfil this boast in yourselves ; prove to the world 
that you are following no false teaching, vindicate 
the glory of your Mother Mary, whom the world 
blasphemes, in the very face of the world, by the 
simplicity of your own deportment, and the sanctity 
of your words and deeds. Go to her for the 
royal heart of innocence. She is the beautiful 

d d 



402 ON THE FITNESS OF THE GLORIES OF MARY. 

gift of God, which outshines the fascinations of a 
bad world, and which no one ever sought in sincerity 
and was disappointed. " She is more precious than 
all riches; and all things that are desired are not 
to be compared with her. Her ways are beautiful 
ways, and all her paths are peace. She is a tree 
of life to them that lay hold on her ; and he that 
shall retain her is blessed. As a vine hath she 
brought forth a pleasant odour, and her flowers are 
the fruit of honour and virtue. Her spirit is 
sweeter than honey, and her heritage than the 
honeycomb. They that eat her shall yet be hungry, 
and they that drink her shall still thirst. Whoso 
hearkeneth to her, shall not be confounded, and 
they that work by her, shall not sin." 



THE END. 




Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. 
Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
< Treatment Date: Jan. 2006 



PreservationTechnologies A 

I a WORLD LEADER IN PAPER PRESERVATION k 

• 111 Thomson Park Drive 

» Cranberry Township, PA 1 6066 

° (724)773-^1^ 



